A Christmas To Remember
by Blue Stone Shining Wolf
Summary: Two strangers take a ski holiday alone to escape their normal life, but end up finding each other. How will their time together change them, and what happens after the holiday is over and they have to return to reality? AU all human Nine/Rose. Inspired by a song with the same name. MILD T rating.
1. Day 1: Monday

**A Christmas to Remember**

* * *

**Preface**

This story is based on a song by Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton with the same name. While listening to the song before Christmas, I knew right away that I had to write it. So when my laptop died, trapping a work in progress, I switched to this story.

Another author,** paradoxon** has written with the same title. However, hers is in German and not the same at all, so I asked her permission to use the title, and she has granted it. If you want to read her English version, it is called _Santa's Lost His Mojo_ and is another Nine/Rose story.

This story is a little different than my others for two main reasons.

The first difference is that this is an all human AU story. I used to avoid reading these and never planned to write one, but you should never say never. So here I am. These characters have the primary personality of the Doctor and Rose (and Rose's back story is very close to canon), but their differences mean they might make decisions that canon Rose and the Doctor would not. It is also set in 2014 rather than back in 2005. Therefore there was no adjusting for technology or even having to know what was the right day of the week when I wrote it. I borrow dialogue from Series 1 (and a bit beyond) and re-purpose it, sometimes having different characters say the lines than did originally. There are also Doctor Who "Easter eggs" to be found. It's a little silly, but it is part of the fun.

The second difference is that this started as a daily serial. The plan was to post a chapter each day until it was completed, and revise errors after it was complete. It ended up stretching into longer intervals with the epilogue to be finished in 2015 instead. The chapters are edited but my authors notes still reflect my original plan.

That is probably all I need to tell you before you begin.

* * *

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Enjoy!

**Day One—Monday, 22nd December**

"Don't go, sweetheart. Please don't go," Rose Tyler heard her mother, Jackie, say from the doorway of her room.

Rose had already addressed her mother's protests twice that morning and several times in the two weeks leading up to it, so this time she continued packing without acknowledging her.

"I'll stop bothering you about getting a job," Jackie said more earnestly. "I'll work weekends till you find one. And if Mickey comes round again and begs to see you, I'll say no. I really will."

"I'm not leaving because of you," said Rose while continuing her task. "I'm traveling, that's all. I'll be back right after Boxing Day."

"But it's not safe goin' all on your own," Jackie said as she entered the room and sat on Rose's bed.

"I'm twenty-four, and it's a ski resort," Rose said. "I'll be fine."

"I just don't see why you need to leave," Jackie complained.

Rose finished folding the scarf in her hand and put it in the suitcase on her bed. "I just do," Rose said. "All my life, nothing's happened. Nothing at all. Not ever. Then my job blew up and—"

"I wish you would stop saying that," Jackie said in a mother-like tone that Rose hadn't heard in a long time. "Henrik's is still standing and in one piece."

"Well it might as well have," complained Rose. "First the bankruptcy reduced my hours down to nothing, then there was the buy-out." Rose returned to packing in order to channel her frustration. "They said it was supposed to be a good thing. They didn't tell us that as soon as it was under new management they'd sack all the mangers inside the store—including the assistant managers—and hire their own people."

"I told you—you should have sued for compensation."

"It was perfectly legal, Mum," Rose told her. "But at least I got a good severance package and double holiday pay. And maybe it's for the better. They passed me up for a promotion twice and told me I'd never be a buyer without a higher degree, no matter how well I could have done it. So I needed something new. I just thought I'd have found something after two months of looking."

"There were plenty of seasonal jobs," her mother reminded her.

Rose slammed a drawer in irritation. "And be unemployed again after New Year's?" she asked. "I had to use that time to look for something permanent. I'm going nowhere! I'm in my twenties and still live with my mother!"

"What wrong with living here?" Jackie asked. It was clear Rose's words had hurt her.

Rose pushed the suitcase further back on the bed and sat next to her mother. "Sorry, Mum. That's not what I meant. I love you. It's just I'm still sleeping in the room where I used to have tea parties with my dolls, and I can't afford to make any other choice." Rose sighed. "I just need to get away for a little while. Then I'll come back and figure out what to do next." She rested her head on her mother's shoulder. "I'll miss you though," she told her.

Jackie sniffed. "Okay," she said finally. "But why over Christmas? You can go anytime!"

"Because that's when everyone comes round," Rose said. "And every one of them will have questions and advice. I'd rather not deal with that." Rose stood up and began to put the final items in her suitcase. "Besides, you can't turn Mickey away at Christmas. We're the closest thing he has left to family, aren't we? Can't very well let him be all alone." Rose zipped up the suitcase. "But if he's here, he's gonna look at me with those puppy dog eyes and beg to get back together. Three months and he still doesn't get it's over." She put the suitcase on the ground and rolled it over to the door before turning back toward her mom. "I'd rather not deal with that at Christmas."

"Fine," said Jackie as she blinked back tears. "I don't like it, but I understand." She stood up gave her daughter a hug. Rose hugged her back and found that her own eyes were watery.

After a moment, Rose let go and looked at her mother. "Okay," she said. "No tears. It's still Christmastime. I have some time before my plane leaves. Why don't we use that travel club membership go eat a nice brunch at a discount? We could even exchange gifts."

"We can get brunch," Jackie said. "But rules are rules. No presents till Christmas. You'll just have to wait till you get back."

Rose smiled. "Okay, Mum," she said with a smile. "I had a feeling you'd say that."

* * *

John D. Smith wasn't sure when he stopped listening to his Chief Operations Officer. All he knew is that his mind had begun wandering several sentences ago. So while Barbara Wright continued to talk about the upcoming contract negotiations with their latest merger, he stood up and began to put on his black leather jacket. (He never wore a suit and tie, preferring his jacket and comfortable jumper to traditional office attire. He reasoned that there had to be _some_ perks to being the Chief Executive Officer, President, and primary shareholder of his company.) Then, without a word to his more professionally dressed colleague, he left his office.

"Hold on a minute," Barbara said, following him as he made his way through a sea of desks and out to the hallway. "You can't just go swanning off."

"Yes I can," Smith said, stepping into a lift. "Here I am. This is me, swanning off. See you."

Barbra hurried into the lift before it closed. "But it's Monday morning," she protested. "We're meeting with Auton Distributing right after lunch. We only have three and a half days before the whole office shuts down for a four day weekend, and we need things decided by then."

"Ten out of ten for observation," he said. A bell dinged, the lift door opened, and John D. Smith exited, followed by Barbara.

"You can't just walk away," she said as he passed the reception desk in the lobby. "That's not fair. You've got to stay for the negotiations."

"No, I don't," Smith said. Auton Distributing was just one of about a dozen subsidiaries his company oversaw and the office he had just left—though the primary headquarters—was just one of three he had to oversee. He had bigger things to worry about than his subordinate's frustration over a routine merger.

"All right, then," the businesswoman said. "I'll finalize the contract, but you said they'd make unreasonable demands. I might just concede to them."

"Is that supposed to sound tough?" He stopped in front of the reception desk to conclude the mostly-one-sided conversation. He didn't need Barbara following him out to the car park like a lost puppy.

"Sort of," she retorted.

"Doesn't work," he said, also attempting to sound tough. But when he looked at Barbara's face, he softened. "You can do this," he said. "I trust you. Draw up the papers. Get legal to look them over, and I'll sign them when I get back."

"From where?" Barbara asked.

"Don't know," he said with a shrug. "Skiing, maybe."

Barbara looked at him with an expression that seemed like a mixture of confusion and amusement. "Okay," she said slowly, "but why did you just get up and walk out in the middle of the conversation?"

He didn't know. After a moment of contemplation, he answered, "I was bored."

"What do you mean you were bored?" she asked.

"I oversee a multi-million pound corporation and have the bank account to prove it," he said. Then he paused, not sure where he was going with his explanation.

"And that's not enough for you," she concluded.

"Exactly," he said. Barbara's intuition and perception was part of the reason she had the position she did. "I have the power to make my own schedule and travel where I want, but I hardly ever use it. Can't remember the last time I took a trip for pleasure."

Barbara smiled. "Then it's about time you took a proper holiday," she said.

Smith grinned. He didn't take the time to cultivate any real friendships, but if anyone in his life came close to fitting the description of a friend, Barbara, with her kindness and understanding would have been the one.

"Right then," he said, drawing their conversation to a close, "guess I'm off. I'll see you in a week and approve the contracts then."

Barbara nodded. "Okay," she said. "But you better make sure you have _fun_."

"You can't tell your boss what to do," Smith said, pretending to be offended.

"Seems like I just did."

Smith shook his head. "Happy Christmas, Barbara."

"Happy Christmas," she said. "Now go."

John D. Smith gave his colleague a brief wave, then walked out to the car park with an inexplicable sense of excitement. He felt like a school boy who was running away from his responsibilities to go play in the snow, and it felt fantastic.

* * *

"What do you mean my room is not available?" Rose asked the woman behind the counter at Hotel Galaxie. She had finally arrived in Val d'Isere, France—the most popular ski resort with the British—after a rather bumpy flight and a cab drive in a taxi that was not quite warm enough, and she didn't need any more problems.

"I am zo sorry," the woman (Audrey, according to her nametag) said in a thick French accent. "Vee are overbooked, and other guests checked in before you."

"But I paid in full," said Rose as she pulled out the paper with her confirmation. She pushed it across the counter to Audrey, who read it and nodded.

"Yes, you are booked at zis 'otel," she said. "But we do not have zee room."

"So what do I do now?" Rose asked. She was beginning to think her mother was right about traveling alone.

Audrey did not answer right away. She was looking at the paper Rose had given her and typing rapidly on the computer. Finally she looked up. "You booked your stay through zee Tarids Travel Club?" she asked Rose.

"Yeah," said Rose. "The company that bought out my job gave a year membership to all the employees when they took over." _Then they sacked us, _she added to herself.

"Zen you are in luck," Audrey said. "Zat membership comes with guaranteed confirmation."

"How does that help if all the rooms are filled?" Rose asked. "Getting my money back won't help when I'm stuck in France for five nights."

"All zee rooms are not filled," Audrey said.

"But you said…"

"All zee rooms in the price-range you chose are filled. But zere are two luxury suites available," Audrey explained. "Because of your Travel Club membership, we can upgrade you at no extra fee."

Rose just nodded. Her mood had switched from irritated to elated in seconds, and she didn't want to say anything that would make her look over-eager.

"So which suite would you like?" asked Audrey, turning the monitor toward Rose so she could see the suites' locations on the map and the layout and a photograph of each one. They were next door to each other and looked virtually identical. They both contained a bedroom with a queen sized bed; a salon with a sofa, fireplace, small table, mini fridge, and sink; and an en-suite bathroom with a jet-powered tub and a separate shower. The only difference was that they were mirror images of each other with all the features on opposite sides. There was also a slight difference in décor. Rose chose the one with floral accents over the one that was decorated in dark blue and white.

Audrey did more typing on the computer. "You are confirmed for suite eight," she said as she handed Rose a new print-out and a key card. Then she handed her another card that appeared to be a credit card. It was embossed with a picture of the hotel. "And for your trouble we are giving you complimentary meals in our restaurant. Just give them zis card, and zee 'otel will take care of zee expense."

Rose could no longer hold in her delight. "Oh, thank you so much!" she exclaimed. "This is wonderful!"

Rose thanked Audrey again before going to find her room. When she did, it surpassed the picture she was shown. It had to be almost as big as her entire flat in London, and twice as beautiful. Though she was tempted by her inner child, she did not jump up and down or twirl around in circles, but she did let out a squeal and fall backward onto the luxurious bed. Once there, she realized that the flight and the preparations for her trip had left her tired. She had a few hours before the restaurant would start dinner service, so she decided she would have a nap then enjoy a complimentary five-star dinner, all thanks to the company that made the mistake of letting her go: Arcadia Associated.

* * *

"Did you enjoy your meal Monsieur Smith?" the waiter asked.

Smith nodded, though he was sure his face did not display the desired amount of enthusiasm. He also knew that, based on his monetary worth, the waiter had likely assumed his apparent indifference was the result of a refined palate that found the food at Restaurant Nébuleuse below his expectations. However, the opposite was true. Smith's tastes had changed very little from his youth in Lancashire, England and it was during the Christmas season that he craved the simple dishes that he grew up eating. It was one reason he usually kept himself busy in December. He had to distract himself from remembering a life that he had lost a long time ago.

Maybe it was a mistake to take a holiday, especially when the entire world was turning their thoughts toward family and home. He had neither, and he did his best to keep busy so he would not be reminded of that fact. However, it was too late to change his mind. If he went back now, Barbara would stubbornly refuse any help and likely chide him for not seeing his holiday through. No—he had to stay and prove to himself that he could have fun and enjoy himself. But it couldn't be a relaxing holiday. He needed to keep running from one activity to the next and keep his mind occupied. Most of all, he needed to steer clear of those things that threatened to bring back any painful memories. It would be a challenge, but a challenge was exactly the thing that would keep his mind moving.

All meals were being charged to Smith's hotel account, so he thanked the waiter again and left the restaurant. Maybe tomorrow he would eat in town. There had to be something in Val d'Isere that appealed more to the common man. After all, it was a prime tourist location, and people of all income levels flocked there during ski season.

It was too early to turn in for the night. Smith needed something to occupy his time, but every event at Hotel Galaxie that evening seemed far too social for his taste. He might have chosen to stay at another hotel if he had known how family-oriented it would be, but it was in the center of town and one of the only hotels with any vacancies. In fact, there had been only one suite left when he arrived.

After some pondering, Smith decided a good book might be a way to pass the time until morning. Maybe he could locate a bookshop and find a copy of _A Christmas Carol. _He could even attempt to read it in French, though he was far from fluent in it. Dickens was one of his favorite authors, and it seemed like an appropriate way to spend the season. He wasn't a Scrooge himself, after all. He was generous with his money and he actually loved Christmas, it was just a hard time of year to be alone, and he didn't let people in easily.

Smith left the hotel and shivered slightly. He tolerated the cold fairly well and didn't feel the need for a heavier coat, but tomorrow he would remember to put on another layer underneath his jumper. For now he needed to decide which direction he should go to begin his search for a bookshop. But as he was deciding, he was pelted from the left by large ball of snow.

"What the?" he sputtered as he brushed the snow off his leather jacket and turned to locate his assailant. There was no one to be found.

It didn't matter. It was likely an overenthusiastic kid. He had been like that once. He and his sister—

Smith shook his head to expel the fragmented thought from his head and headed in the direction from whence the snowball had come. It was as good a direction as any.

When he had reached the end of the hotel building, Smith discovered the source of the rouge snowball. Between the Hotel Galaxie and the one beside it, a full scale snow war had erupted. The median age of the combatants seemed to be nineteen or twenty and, from the evidence of wine and other bottles, it appeared that most of them were at least slightly inebriated. They didn't seem to be doing any harm at the moment, but something about them caused him concern. He made a mental note to check back when he returned and make sure things had not gotten out of hand.

* * *

Dinner was amazing. Rose was glad that no one could read her thoughts because she felt a little like Cinderella experiencing the prince's palace for the first time. Yesterday she had eaten beans on toast for dinner; tonight she had dined on Filet Mignon. Then she had consumed a decadent éclair with some coffee for dessert. And all of it was included in her complementary meal.

After she had finished, Rose decided to explore the village surrounding the hotel. She could tell from looking down the street that it was decorated with an abundance of white and multicolored fairy lights, so it seemed like a pleasant way to spend the evening. However after just moments outside, she knew her coat was not warm enough keep out the chill. There was a small shop in the hotel that sold items for tourists along with an assortment of winter coats. Since she didn't have to pay for food during her stay, Rose reasoned that she was justified in buying a new coat.

Twenty minutes later, Rose was done shopping. She had chosen a magenta colored ski jacket with trousers to match, and a pair of ski boots as well. It was more than she was used to spending at one time, but it was all part of the holiday pay Henrik's—or rather, Arcadia—had given her. When she returned to reality, she would go back to being thrifty, but while on holiday she would spend a bit more freely. Rose returned the trousers and boots to her room then exited the hotel from a side entrance, eager to take in the winter wonderland that awaited her.

What awaited her, however, was not the wonderland that she had expected. The minute she was outside in the space between her hotel and the next, she could see snowballs flying in every direction. She put up her hood to shield herself from flying snow and ice and then stepped into the battle zone so she could turn right and reach the main street.

"Unarmed civilian!" she called to no one in particular. At least some of them had to speak English. Her words, however, seemed to be of no effect. If anything, it just made her into a new target. Snowballs flew at her from all directions, and all she could do was stand there and shield her face.

"Yeah, you got me!" she called to the crowd. "Very funny!" She tried to turn toward the street but three people wearing balaclavas began to walk toward her. They appeared to be young men, and in their hands were snowballs that appeared to consist mostly of ice, which could actually cause injury to the person that was hit.

"Right," she said as she backed up in the opposite direction than she had intended on going. "I get that I entered a battle, but I'm not playing."

One of the masked young men threw his snowball, which hit Rose in the shoulder. She could feel the sting from the ice within it. Another snowball followed. Then another. She was starting to feel worried. She knew they were just snowballs, but the majority of the crowd looked drunk. With too much alcohol in the mix, something innocent could quickly become dangerous. Rose kept backing up, hoping that they would leave her alone, but it appeared that a crowd mentality had taken over. The game had changed from a two-sided war to a fox hunt—and she was the fox. At least a dozen people had now made her their target and were coming at her from all directions.

In an attempt to back up and get away, she had unknowingly turned slightly and was now backed up against a wall. She closed her eyes and waited to be bombarded with frozen projectiles, but as soon as she did, she felt a hand grasp her left hand.

She turned her head and opened her eyes. "Run," said the man who was holding her hand. His voice was deep and authoritative, and she complied without question. He pulled her around the corner and they ran through a double gate to an outdoor dining area, running between the tables as a crowd of intoxicated people continued to pursue them. They passed through an identical gate at the other end, and the man quickly dropped her hand and shoved an iron chair against the doors which swung outward, keeping Rose's pursuers from getting through. A few stray snowballs flew at the bars of the gate and burst before the crowd turned around to look for another way out.

"You stopped 'em," Rose said to the man. Now that they had stopped running, she had a chance to look at him. He was almost a head taller than her and appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties with a high hairline and short-cropped dark hair. His nose and ears were prominent features, but not in an unpleasant sort of way. And he seemed to be under dressed for the weather, wearing only a leather jacket and a dark v-neck jumper.

"Very clever. Nice trick!" she said, talking rapidly because of the adrenaline in her system. There was also an irritation in her voice because of the situation that she unfairly directed at him. "Who were they then, students? Is this a student thing or what?"

"Why would they be students?" he asked, crossing his arms in front of him. Rose didn't know if it was because he was cold, because he thought it made him look tough, or if it was a little bit of both.

"I don't know," she said, feeling irritated. " 'Cos that many young people thinking it's funny to chase random people would have to be students."

The man turned and smiled at her. "That makes sense," he said. "Well done."

"Thanks," she said, not sure why she appreciated his approval.

"They're worse than students, though" he said as he began walking toward the hotel's back entrance. Rose followed. "They're students on Christmas break who've had too much to drink. Noticed them when I went out looking for a shop. When I came back it seemed their new game was to target anyone who entered their snowball fight."

"Yeah I noticed that part," Rose said.

"You were the first that they seemed intent on harming," the man said. "I'd already notified security and had just come back out when I saw you." He paused a few feet in front of the hotel doors and looked at her. "You're shivering, you should go back inside and warm up."

"What about you?" she asked. "You aren't even dressed properly."

"I hear that a lot, me," he said.

Rose shot him a quizzical look.

"Never mind," he said with the shake of his head. "Anyway, I'm going to wait and make sure security follows through, but don't worry about me. No, you go inside." Rose took a step then hesitated. "Go on," he insisted, almost patronizingly as he opened the door for her. "Go warm up by the lovely fire."

Rose stepped through the door and watched it close, not sure what to do next. Just then, man opened the door again.

"I'm the Doctor, by the way," he said. "What's your name?"

"Rose," she said, still feeling confused.

"Nice to meet you, Rose. Now go."

Rose nodded as the door closed once again. Her holiday was off to a rather interesting start.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** My apologies if my business-speak is not entirely accurate. My education focused on learning how to write and how to teach young children, not business.


	2. Day 2: Tuedsay Morning

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Day Two (Morning)– Tuesday, 23 December**

Why had he introduced himself last night?

John D. Smith had been asking himself that question from the moment he said his name until he finally fell asleep, and he started asking it again the minute he woke up. He massaged his temples with his thumb and forefinger and chided himself for his stupidity. He could have easily let the young woman he helped walk away without any introduction at all. But he hadn't. And now there would be complications. They were staying in the same hotel, which meant there was a chance that he would run into her again. If he did, she would now assume, based on the convention of introductions, that he was open to conversation and some level of familiarity. But that couldn't be further from the truth. He was friendly to people, but he preferred to keep his relationships at a professional distance.

The real problem was that he had done more than just introduce himself; he had called himself "the Doctor." It was the name he preferred and had used most of his life, but the consequence of sharing it meant tolerating the questions that inevitably followed. And if he answered honestly to those questions (he didn't always), he had to bring up memories that he had worked very hard to repress. For this reason, he only told his preferred moniker to those with whom he knew he would have repeated contact. So why had he gone against his usual rule and been so candid with a random young woman he might never see again?

The answer played in the same uncomfortable corners of his mind that held his painful past, but it couldn't be denied. He _wanted _to see her again. He could see her image every time he closed his eyes. With her bright magenta ski jacket and the blond hair that showed from beneath her hood and framed her face, she had been a vision of pink and yellow loveliness. And her wind-touched cheeks were as rosy as her name. Rose. It was a beautiful name. _She_ was beautiful. Not that it mattered. There was no place in his life for personal relationships, especially of the type that now invaded his thoughts. Besides, she was likely too young for him. Or more accurately, he was likely too _old_ for her. She couldn't have been much older than those rowdy students, and he—who would soon complete four decades—felt he was far past his prime. For this and many other reasons (the Doctor felt almost compelled to make a list to prove it to himself) there was no logic in giving Rose another thought. But logic seemed to be in short supply that morning. Instead, he wanted to say her name over and over again the way the character Tony had sung about Maria in _West Side Story_.

He had clearly gone mad. It was the only explanation that made sense. The Doctor got out of bed and dressed for the day while he pondered this hypothesis. Clearly he had been working too hard for too long, and therefore his psyche had attached to the first person he had interacted with who was not in "work mode." What he needed to do was carry on with his plan of highly-scheduled diversions. So though it was just past six in the morning, the Doctor left his suite and headed downstairs to begin a day full of activities.

* * *

Having a lie-in was a heavenly experience. More than once, Rose's internal alarm clock had tried to convince her to spring out of bed and begin her day, but every time it was met with stubborn resistance as Rose turned on her other side and resolved to go back to sleep. It was the first time since Rose had lost her job that she had allowed herself to slow down and rest. Looking for work was a full-time job in itself, and Rose had given the same amount of time and effort to it as she had to her duties as a department store assistant manager. But this was her holiday, and she was determined to relax. So even after she could no longer will herself to remain in a state of slumber, she languished in bed, amazed that it was possible to feel as comfortable as she did, and wondering just how high the thread count of her sheets actually were.

Eventually she left the cocoon-like comfort of her luxurious bed and set about preparing for the day. As she did, her mind alternated between the various experiences she wanted to try during her stay and the strange ups and downs of the day before. Even with a less-than-perfect travel experience, arriving to find out her original room had been taken, and a run-in with students who thought having a snowball fight while completely sloshed was a good idea, she had concluded that it had been a really good day. And she couldn't help but smile when she thought of the man who called himself the Doctor who had helped rescue her from the rowdy crowd. But it wasn't just his help that was making her smile. Though his manner had seemed somewhat brusque, there was something in his grin that hinted that there was more to him than she had seen, and Rose found herself hoping she would run into him again.

It was a quarter past ten by the time Rose was ready to venture down to the restaurant for breakfast. While dining, she planned to look over the equipment rental and ski lift pass portion of the Tardis Travel Club's five-night ski package, so she picked up the trip itinerary folder from the small table in the salon and headed for the door. While she was still a few feet away, she could hear someone on the opposite side of the door attempt to push down the lever-style door handle and open the door. It was likely housekeeping. She had turned the deadbolt on the door after she had returned to her suite last night so they wouldn't be able to enter before she had been ready to get up, but since she was about to leave, it was better to let them in now so they would not have to return later.

The housekeeping team tried to open the door two more times in quick succession by the time Rose grasped the interior handle. She was about to pull it down when a large thump that sounded like a kick to the bottom of the door caused her to jump. Whoever was assigned to clean her room was impatient to get started. Rose pushed down the handle while pulling the door toward her, and bit her tongue in order to keep from complaining about the less-than-professional behavior of the crew. But it was not housecleaning on the other side of the door.

"What're you doing here?" asked the man she had seen last night.

The question caught her off guard since it seemed to be exactly what she should be asking him. "I'm _staying_ here," she answered.

"Well, what are you doing that for?" the man who called himself the Doctor asked.

"Because I am," she said feeling defensive. "I'm only on holiday because someone blew up my job."

"What?" The Doctor gave her a quizzical look.

"Nothing," she said. She wasn't sure what compelled her to share that. She knew she felt like a bit like an imposter spending a week in luxury, but she hadn't planned on advertising that fact. And all she had succeeded in doing was to confuse him.

"I must have got the wrong room," he said in a Northern English accent that Rose had not fully noticed the night before. "This isn't nine is it?" He looked at the number on the door. "No, eight. Must've been preoccupied. Bye, then."

"Wait!" Rose said impulsively before the Doctor was able to walk away. "Why don't you come inside?"

The Doctor hesitated for a moment then came in and closed the door behind him.

Now that he was inside, Rose had no idea what to say or do next, or why exactly she had even invited him in.

"So…" she said. "You're nine then."

He nodded. "Right next door."

That fact made Rose's heart beat a little faster, and it surprised her. Though the thought of meeting a charming stranger had flitted through her head in the weeks leading up to her trip, she hadn't actually expected it happen. And though the man in front of her was at least ten years her senior with looks that were not conventionally seen as handsome, there was no denying the attraction she felt. At the same time, she didn't actually expect the rest of her stay to progress like a Christmas movie on the telly. Meanwhile, no one was speaking. She had to think of something to say to fill the silence.

"So about last night," she said. "Just wanted to say thanks."

He nodded again. "Welcome."

There was more silence as they stood and looked at each other. Her eyes moved about the room and fell on the coffee maker that was on a counter next to the mini fridge. "Do you want a coffee?" she asked finally.

"Might as well, thanks. Just milk."

As if the Doctor's subdued behavior had rubbed on her, Rose nodded and walked over to the coffee maker, putting her itinerary folder back on the table as she did. Now she just needed to find something to talk about while they had their coffee.

* * *

The Doctor had no idea why he had accepted Rose's invitation to come in. There was something about the woman that made him want to let down his guard. He would have to be more careful from this point on, especially now that he knew they were neighbors for the week. He walked over to the small table in the portion of the salon that served as the kitchen and dining room. He sat and absentmindedly picked up a folder that was lying on it. "Rose Tyler," he said out loud as he read the name at the top. Her full name was even nicer than just her first.

Rose turned slightly at the mention of her name. "Anyway, it was lucky you were there last night," she said. "Don't know if I was in much danger or not, but that crowd was getting pretty aggressive."

It might have been lucky for Rose Tyler, but the Doctor felt that he was the one who was now in danger. He could feel his defenses lowering.

Nobody spoke again until the coffee was done. "So where are you headed?" Rose asked as she came to the table with two mugs. "I mean, I guess you were headed to your room. But after that."

"One of the intermediate slopes," he said. "Haven't decided yet."

"I haven't even looked the map over yet," Rose told him. "Was going to head down for some breakfast and look at it there. But it's been such a long time, and I was never that great to begin with, that I need to start with the beginning slopes."

This was good news. He couldn't do much about the fact that Rose Tyler was staying right next door, but if she was a late riser and needed easier slopes, there was a chance he could still avoid running into her again. So why did he feel disappointed?

"So," Rose said as she took a sip of coffee. "You're a Doctor then."

And there it was. The questions had begun. The Doctor took a deep breath before answering. "Sort of."

"How can someone be 'sort of' a Doctor?" Rose asked.

"Have a doctorate. Not in medicine," he told her.

"So you're a professor then," she concluded.

"Nope," he said. He picked up his mug and took a drink. He knew he should say more, but he held out hope that his brief answers would dissuade Rose from continuing.

It didn't. "So what's it in then?"

"Business."

"They have doctorates in business?" she asked in surprise.

The Doctor nodded.

"Well you must be pretty proud of your education then," she said.

He frowned in confusion.

"Well, you go about calling yourself 'the Doctor,' " Rose said with a shrug. "Seems like you're pretty chuffed. I know _I_ would be."

The comment was not unexpected, but it was said with such sincerity that it caused the Doctor to grin. "That's not why I'm called Doctor," he told her against his better judgment. " 'M named John Smith after my father, but I'm not an official junior. My parents gave me a different middle name based on their diverse heritage, and called me that. It's an important family tie, but not easy to pronounce correctly."

"What is it?" Rose asked.

The Doctor shook his head. "I don't share that with anyone." He took another sip of coffee and continued. "I was ten when my sister Susan was born. When she started speaking, she couldn't say my name. Came out 'Doctor.' Been called that ever since."

He'd told her enough. He didn't have to continue. But Rose's kind smile kept him talking. "Changed it to 'Doctor' in official records about twelve years ago. Only the 'the' reflects any supposed accomplishment."

"So all your family and friends call you 'Doctor' then?" Rose asked.

The Doctor felt his jaw set. It wasn't her fault, but he'd reached his limit. He did his best to smile, then stood up. "Well, I should be going now," he said, hoping his tone would not betray his sudden discomfort. "Came here to ski."

"Okay," Rose said. "I'll see you around then."

Did she sound disappointed? The Doctor walked to the door, opened it, then wiggled his fingers in a small wave. "Bye."

"See you later?" she said in a tone that almost sounded like a question.

"Look forward to it," he said with a smile. He walked through the door and cringed once it was shut. Why had he said that? There was something about Rose Tyler that made him question how he had conducted his personal life for over a decade. And for the first time, he didn't even mind.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **This chapter is only half a day because it was getting long. This may be a pattern.

I changed the time that Rose was ready to go by almost an hour, based on a review by Tia Kisu. She is right, Rose would sleep in longer that I had allowed her to.


	3. Day 2: Tuesday Evening

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Day Two (Evening) – Tuesday, 23 December**

Rose finished breakfast then took a bus to the most basic slopes that Val had to offer. But she was so distracted with thoughts of the Doctor that even these seemed a challenge. After eating lunch at a café at the foot of the hill, she took a refresher ski course for adults where she met Rhys and Gwen Williams, a couple from Cardiff. She spent the rest of the afternoon skiing with them, and by the end of the day they had even managed some of the easier intermediate slopes. Rose was feeling so confident when Gwen and Rhys left for their chalet that she decided to try a run on a slightly more challenging course before she also left for dinner.

Once she was at the top, Rose began to rethink her decision. It looked a lot steeper and more twisted from that vantage point than it had appeared from the bottom. She could have asked to ride back down on the chair lift, but it was complicated to arrange, and it was embarrassing. She would just have to get it over with.

It took Rose less than a minute to realize that the embarrassment of riding down the chair lift would have been preferable to the embarrassment of tumbling and stopping frequently while skiing a slope she wasn't quite ready for. But now she was partway down and really _didn't_ have a choice. She descended the mountain as slowly as she could, as countless other skiers passed her by. She had hoped to continue in this manner until she had reached the bottom, but the incline was setting her speed more than was any technique she had learned in her refresher course. Soon she was picking up speed. As fixed objects flew past her field of vision, her fear increased, and she prayed that she didn't hit a tree or break a limb.

Suddenly a skier in a black snow jacket appeared on her right, matched her speed, and moved slightly ahead. His gestures indicated that she should follow his movements. She did: matching posture and foot position and following in the path that he set. As she did, her confidence began to return and she regained control. Before long, she had reached the end of the trail.

Rose breathed a sigh of relief as she stopped. Then she pulled back her hood and removed her goggles and skis. Her eyes scanned the scattered people in the crowd for a black ski jacket. She wanted to thank the man who had come to her aid. Finally she found him. He was leaning against a tree with his arms crossed in front of him. Rose gasped. Though she only had a profile view, and the man was wearing a knit cap which altered his appearance from what she remembered, she knew it was the Doctor.

Though the movement of the Doctor's eyes indicated that he had seen Rose in his peripheral vision as she walked toward him, he did not turn his head. Rose suspected that this was an attempt to appear cool and aloof.

"Seems you had a bit of trouble back there," he said when she had reached him.

"The skis got away from me, yeah," she agreed. "Thanks for your help…again."

At the sound of Rose's voice, the Doctor turned in her direction with eyes wide from surprise. "It's you!" he exclaimed.

" 'Fraid so," she said with a grin.

The Doctor matched her grin then shook his head. "Trouble seems to follow you."

"Not usually," she said. Then seeing his raised eyebrows, she added, "Really. You just keep catching me at my worst."

She took a step closer to the Doctor, but slipped on a patch of ice. Fortunately, he was able to step forward and reach for her arm before she was able to fall completely. Then he used both hands to lift her to standing. "I've known a lot of people," he said with a chuckle as he steadied her still-wobbly feet, "but you're setting new records for jeopardy friendly."

"Is that so?" Rose asked in mock defensiveness. But any retort she was going to make was forgotten because the realization that she was in his arms had put her in a temporary stupor. And it was made worse when his steel-blue eyes locked on hers. Rose felt warmth rise in her cheeks, and as soon as she found her footing, she stepped away from the Doctor.

"Thought you were doing beginning slopes," the Doctor commented.

Rose looked behind her at the mountain she had just skied. "I was at first, but I was increasing my skill with some friends I just made. This was the next one on the list, but they had to go. I learned my lesson though," she said. "No more skiing without a partner."

"Good plan."

Rose nodded. "I was about to head back to the hotel and get dinner," she told the Doctor, feeling bold. "Want to join me?"

* * *

Dinner with Rose Tyler had not been in the Doctor's plans for the evening, but it would have been a lie to say that the thought had not crossed his mind. And when she invited him to join her, he could find no compelling reason to turn her down. It seemed his new plan of action was to neither avoid her nor deliberately seek Rose out. If they continued to cross paths, then he would wax poetic or philosophical and assume the encounter was meant to be.

As they ate the Doctor let Rose do most of the talking, interjecting only as needed. At first he had done so to keep the conversation from steering back the direction it had gone in the morning, but he let her continue because he was genuinely interested in what she had to say. She started by telling him about her day on the slopes then shared her experience—or lack thereof—with skiing. From there she talked a little about her life in London and explained the circumstances that lead to her current holiday. She also mentioned the complications she had encountered upon arrival.

"So thanks to the Tardis Travel Club," Rose was saying, "I got an upgraded room."

The Doctor frowned as something Rose said sparked a connection in his mind. "You said the company that bought out your store gave the club membership to all the employees?"

"Yeah. It was a nice gesture. Would have been even nicer if I hadn't been sacked."

"You weren't sacked," the Doctor said. "You were laid off."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Thanks Mr. Doctorate in Business. I know that. But it makes precocious little difference to my employment status."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. It had been a long time since he had experienced the financial struggles that were part of Rose's daily existence. "Rose," ventured the Doctor, chasing a nagging thought that would not leave him. "What was the name of the department store you worked at?"

"Henrik's," she answered.

It rang a bell, and the Doctor had a suspicion he knew the reason for the familiarity. "And what was the company that bought it out?"

"Arcadia Associated."

Of course it was. The Doctor sighed and he felt his posture slack.

"What?" Rose asked.

"I'm sorry that company let so many people go. They should've kept as many as they could and trained the existing general managers in the new company policy."

"Thanks," she said. "But it's not like it's your fault."

The Doctor furrowed his brow and wondered if he looked as guilty as he felt.

"What?" Rose asked suspiciously. She must have picked up on the look.

"Never told you what I do for a living," he said.

Rose eyes widened and her mouth gaped open. "You work for Arcadia Associated, don't you?"

This time the Doctor _knew_ he looked guilty. "Sort of," he said slowly.

If possible, Roses eyes opened even wider. "And with that degree of yours, I bet you're some big executive."

"Sort of, yeah," the Doctor said.

"When you say sort of…" started Rose.

"I run the company," the Doctor finally admitted. "I pretty much own it."

"You blew up my job," she said, the whisper of a laugh lacing her words.

"No I—" he started. "Well, to be fair, the company had already self-destructed."

"But Arcadia Associated bought them out," she said.

"Yeah."

"And _you're_ the head Acardia Associated."

"Yes," he said. "Is that all right?"

"Yeah." Rose's tone was serious, but did not seem to hold any anger. Then the ghost of a smile appeared on her face. " 'S'just ironic is all. I take a holiday to get away from reminders of my work situation, and of all the people I could meet..." Rose shook her head and laughed gently.

"Disappointed?" the Doctor asked, feeling suddenly insecure.

"No," said Rose. And to the Doctor's surprise, she covered the hand he had resting on the table with her own as her hazel-brown eyes met his. "Not at all."

The Doctor's heart leapt and he couldn't fight the smile that spread across his face. Rose smiled back with the tip of her tongue peeking out from between her teeth. Maybe it was just because he had been alone for too long, but it had to be the cutest thing he had seen in ages. And that's when the Doctor knew he was in trouble. The walls he had built up around himself began to crumble, and he decided he would rather risk a broken heart than shut out someone who seemed so willing to spend time with him. He wouldn't let himself presume that anything would come of it, but he knew his Christmas would be brighter if Rose Tyler was part of it.

* * *

When Rose and the Doctor left Restaurant Nébuleuse there was a group of carolers in the lobby. Rose felt a thrill rush through her. She loved Christmas music and (other than snow) nothing was able to evoke a feeling of Christmas in her like traditional Christmas carols. Though she listened primarily to the popular music of the day, she had a secret love for the harmonies of music from a time long since past. Feeling like an excited child, she broke into a brisk walk and moved closer to the crowd that had formed around the singers. But after a few steps, she noticed that the Doctor had not matched her pace. She rushed back over to him and grabbed his hand.

"Come on, then," she said as she headed quickly back toward the singers. "Let's go watch!" She worked her way to the front, holding firmly onto the Doctor's hand as if she was in danger of losing him within the small crowd. But once they had found a satisfactory place to stand, they did not drop hands until the crowd pushed in around them. Rose and the Doctor must have discovered the carolers at the beginning of their performance, because they watched them perform five songs. When those were concluded, the carolers began a sing-along portion with songs in both English and French. She and the Doctor joined in. Sometimes they sang well. Other times they stumbled over foreign words, laughing as they did. Eventually the carolers left, the crowd dispersed, and the pair was left standing in the lobby, unsure of their next move.

"Want to take a walk?" Rose finally asked, taking for granted that the Doctor wanted to remain in her company. "It's what I had wanted to do last night before I got attacked by snowballs."

"Yeah, okay," the Doctor answered.

"Okay," Rose said. She was about to head for the main entrance, when she noticed the Doctor's clothing. They had both changed from their ski clothes before dinner, but Rose had kept her coat with her. The Doctor had changed back into the leather jacket she had seen him in the night before. "D'you want to get another coat first?" she asked.

The Doctor shook his head. "Don't get cold easily."

Rose was doubtful. "Fine," she said, sounding deliberately like a parent. "But don't come cryin' to me later if you're too cold."

The Doctor chuckled. "I'm sure I can find a way to keep warm," he said. But the minute he said it, his face turned pink and it spread up to his ears. "Blimey," he said. "That's not what I—I didn't mean to imply that—"

Somehow the Doctor's embarrassment kept Rose's at bay. She took his hand once again. "Why don't we just begin walking," she suggested.

The Doctor nodded and seemed relieved.

They spent the next hour strolling down the main street of town admiring the lights and decorations that adorned the shops and trees.

"It's lovely isn't it?" Rose said as they turned back toward Hotel Galaxie.

Beside her, the Doctor nodded. "Very Christmassy."

"You don't get Christmases like this in London," she said as she watched the twinkling lights reflect off the snow that covered. "I just love it!"

"Honestly," the Doctor said, "I'd stopped paying attention."

Rose frowned. "Why?"

"Bit of a workaholic, me," he said.

She turned to look at him. "It doesn't seem that way," she said. "Seems like you're enjoying your holiday."

"I am," the Doctor said. "But I had to make a deliberate decision to do so."

"I'm glad you did," Rose said.

"So am I." This time it was the Doctor who sought out a hand to hold. They re-entered the hotel and made it back to the doors of their suites with hands still joined.

Rose and the Doctor stood in awkward silence in the space between their rooms. It was as if neither one of them wanted to end the evening.

"See you tomorrow?" Rose finally asked.

"See you tomorrow," he said back. His gaze was intense and it did not go unmissed by Rose when his eyes flitted briefly to her lips. It was likely because she had just done the same. There was a split-second when she moved almost imperceptibly closer, but then she stepped back. As if they were mirror images, he did the same.

"I should really get some sleep," Rose said.

At the same time,the Doctor said, "Well, goodnight then."

They each entered their own room, but Rose knew it would be a while before she would be able to wind down enough to sleep. She had only known the Doctor for a little over twenty-four hours, but she already knew he was someone special. She had known her ex-boyfreind, Mickey, her whole life and they had called themselves a couple on and off again for over four years, but she had never felt a connection with him as strong as the one she was feeling now. Rose was aware of the class and age difference between the Doctor and her, and she knew not to turn a ski holiday into a love-at-first-sight fairy tale. However, she was going to remain optimistic that at the very least they could leave the holiday as friends who had shared many wonderful memories.


	4. Day 3: Wednesday Morning (Christmas Eve)

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Day Three – Christmas Eve (Morning), Wednesday, 24 December**

Rose woke up but did not open her eyes. Her plan, as it had been the day before, was to lounge in bed as long as possible whilst enjoying the feel of the Egyptian cotton bedclothes. But as her mind became clearer, she began to focus on the events of the day before and on the Doctor in particular. By the time she had risen and dressed the prior morning, he had gone somewhere and come back. Since she did not have any other way of contacting the Doctor other than running into him, she did not want to miss the opportunity by oversleeping.

Rose opened her eyes, and with blurry vision grabbed the mobile on the nightstand. When her eyes focused enough to see the screen, she panicked. It was twenty minutes until nine! What if the Doctor had already eaten breakfast and left? He had said, "See you tomorrow," but many things can be said under the spell of Christmas ambiance. And even if he had been sincere, it was not a promise to start the day together. He could have just been commenting on the likelihood that they would eventually run into each other again. But Rose wanted more than just that, and losing her job had been a turning point. She was no longer going to let life pass her by and accept whatever happened, she was going to pursue those things that mattered to her and make her life what _she_ wanted to be. And there was no better place to start than by making sure she spent the day with a person who brightened her spirit just by being there.

Rose sprung out of bed and quickly selected her outfit for the day. (The plus side of traveling is that the planning had all been done ahead of time.) Then she ran to the en-suite bathroom to take shower and do her hair and make-up. She was thankful for the many instances of oversleeping in secondary school that had made her an expert on getting ready in a flash. At a minute or two before nine, Rose had left her suite.

Rose stood in the hotel hallway trying to decide her next step. She could rush down to the restaurant and see if the Doctor was still there, but she didn't even know if he had gone there at all. Unlike Rose, who defaulted to the restaurant because of the free meal credit, he could choose to eat anywhere and not give a thought to the price. And if that was the case, he may have already left for whatever activities he had planned for the day. Just because he had returned to his suite the day before, it did not mean he would do the same this time. Still, she knew she shouldn't give up before she had even begun. Maybe the best place to start was to simply knock on the door and see if he was there. If he wasn't, she could check the restaurant.

Rose stood in front of door number nine and knocked, suddenly feeling nervous. There was some shuffling, and a muted voice called, "Just a mo'!" Then the lock clicked and the door opened.

The Doctor looked out from the doorway with a neutral expression, but it changed to a wide grin when he focused on the caller at his door. "Hello!" he said brightly.

"Hello," Rose said back, suddenly unable to find more to say.

"Hello," he said again, more slowly. It was clearly an invitation to explain why she was standing outside his door. But at least it sounded welcoming.

"Er, hi," she said, feeling stupid the minute she had said it. She needed to get the conversation past the point of salutations. "I was about to get some brekkie. Wanna come?" Great. Now she sounded too informal and young.

"Sure," he said. "Mind waiting a tick?"

"Yeah, sure," she said, glad that she hadn't managed to botch anything up.

"Come in," the Doctor said. "Was in the middle of something."

She followed the Doctor in, taking in her surroundings as she did. It was like walking through a looking glass from her room except that everything was deep blue. She was glad she had chosen the suite she had. From what she had observed from the man occupying it, this room suited him.

"Watcha doin'?" asked Rose as she watched the Doctor sit on the sofa and pick up a laptop that had been sitting on it. "Work that couldn't wait?"

"Oh no," the Doctor said. "Made a promise to myself to not to work. Doin' last minute shopping."

"I'll say," said Rose as she sat on the sofa next to him, leaving as much space between them as the sofa design allowed. "Even with overnight shipping, most places won't deliver on Christmas."

"Thought of that," the Doctor said. "But late's better than not at all."

"So is it for family?" Rose inquired, making small talk.

The Doctor's face darkened and his body stiffened. "Don't see how that's any of your business."

Rose was shocked at the hostility in his voice. "It was a simple question," she said in a voice that was clearly irritated. "There's no need for you to react like that."

"Then don't ask personal questions," he snapped.

"That's not fair," Rose said as anger began to rise up within her. "My question was hardly personal." Rose stood up and continued her complaint as her volume level steadily increased. "And last night I told you _everything_ about me, down to the estate I live in and the fact that I only finished my A-levels two years ago and therefore have—had—a dead end job that I just lost. A JOB THAT I LOST BECAUSE OF YOU!"

The Doctor placed his laptop on the coffee table in front of the sofa with more force than was necessary. His face was turning red and there was a storm behind his eyes. "It was not my fault you lost your job," he told her. "Companies go bankrupt all the time. They would've let people go anyway. Arcadia _saved_ it."

"By firing anyone making more than a base wage," Rose snapped back.

"Just because Arcadia is my company," said the Doctor in a voice that was slow and even but laced with anger, "does not mean I go around making small decisions like what employees are hired and let go!"

"It wasn't a small decision to me," Rose said through clenched teeth. It felt good to have someone to unleash her anger on; it had been a long time coming. At the same time, she knew it wasn't fair. Obviously the head of a company that managed several other companies couldn't be in charge of employment at a store level.

The Doctor stood up and crossed his arms, something that seemed to be a habit of his. "That's enough," he said, sounding to Rose like a father scolding a child.

His comment struck a nerve. "I'll stop when I've had my say," she said stubbornly. He had no right to assume any authority over her, especially when she knew nothing about him. "Who are you then, Doctor?" she demanded. He knew so much about her, but he was still essentially a stranger to her. She had thought they had just run out of time to talk about his life, but it now appeared he had intentionally not shared with her. For some reason that she could not explain, Rose felt the need to even the score. "What are you interested in?" she pressed. "What sort of person are you?"

"I'm just the Doctor," he said with as much stubbornness as she had shown.

"Are you from the North?" she asked. "Where did you grow up?"

If possible, he crossed his arms more tightly around his chest. "It's not as if you'll know where it is."

"Where are you _from_?" she asked again.

"What does it _matter_?" he barked.

Rose didn't know. She just felt hurt that the man she had felt so close to the night before now seemed so alien. "Tell me who you are!"

"This is who I am, right here, right now, all right?" the Doctor yelled "All that counts is here and now, and this is me!"

"Yeah," said Rose, "and I'm here too—indirectly because of you—so just tell me _something_."

The Doctor was silent.

"Fine," Rose said. "I'm gone. See you around." She snatched up the coat that she had laid on the couch and stormed out of the suite.

* * *

The Doctor stood paralyzed in the salon of his suite. He had no idea what had just happened. All he knew is that Rose had left and it was his fault. It was always his fault that people left. And now all he was left with was hurt. He should never have let her in—literally _or_ figuratively. The easiest thing for him to do would be to go on and be thankful things hadn't gotten any deeper, but as he stood there staring at the spot where Rose had just stood, he knew he couldn't let that happen. He had to go after her.

The Doctor ran out the door and turned to face hers. It had caught on the security lock at the top of the door and was now sitting ajar. He hesitated, not sure if he should knock or call her name. But as he stood there, he could hear that she was talking to someone.

"I'm fine, Mum, really," Rose was saying. "I just miss you, is all."

There was silence while Rose's mother was presumably talking at the other end of her phone.

"I'm having a good time, I promise," Rose said. "Even got upgraded to a suite when the room I booked was filled…Yeah."

Rose was silent other than some nonverbal hums of affirmation. The Doctor had not meant to eavesdrop, so he turned to leave. But he hesitated when it seemed the conversation was almost over.

"Well, tell them all I love them…No I won't feel lonely…A few. There was a nice couple from Cardiff I met skiing. And the bloke next door is pretty nice…"

He was _nice_? He felt like a first rate git. Listening to Rose talk to her mother, he was reminded that most people—normal healthy people—talk about family as easily as they do the weather. She had done nothing wrong. He deserved it if Rose never talked to him, but the words she spoke to her mother gave him hope that she just might forgive him.

The Doctor missed the rest of the conversation, but he knew Rose must've hung up, because she was now silent. He took a breath to calm his nerves then knocked. Several seconds elapsed with no response from Rose. The Doctor knocked again. Nothing. He wondered if she was trying to make him believe she wasn't there.

"Rose?" he called out in a voice that wavered more than he intended. "Are you there? Your door's ajar."

There were footsteps then Rose opened the door. She didn't say a word, but she stepped aside and allowed him to enter.

"I'm sorry," he said remaining in the doorway. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. Got a bit of a temper, me."

"I'm sorry too," Rose said. "Seems we both have a temper."

"I don't usually talk about myself," he told her in an attempt to explain. "I'm not really used to it."

" 'S'all right," she said. "I shouldn't have demanded." Rose looked at him for a second then continued. "So, wanna go back and start over?" She opened her door wider and began to step outside.

"Sounds good," he said, following her, but he was still unsure if he was forgiven. "So everything…"

"Everything's fine," Rose said. "As my mate Shareen says, the test of a good friendship is being able to survive an argument."

Friendship. The word usually made him nervous, but this time it heartened him. "Are we friends then?" he asked as he opened the door to his suite.

"Sure," Rose said brightly. "One little row's not going to change that." Then she smiled and entered his suite.

The Doctor felt something warm within him. Rose Tyler considered him a friend! If ever there had been something deserving to be called a Christmas miracle, it was this.

"So you were shopping?" Rose asked. There was caution in her voice.

"Yeah," the Doctor said. "For Barbara."

"Okay," Rose said. Her tone was hard to read. She almost seemed upset. Was she worried she might offend him again if she asked more about Barbara, or was there something else?

"She's my colleague," the Doctor explained as he walked over to the sofa and sat down with his laptop. "She's basically my second in command. Runs the London office. She encouraged me to take this trip, so I thought I should get her something."

"You didn't already?" Rose asked. She sat down where she had been sitting before.

The Doctor shrugged. "Everyone gets a bonus and a card I sign by hand. I'm not great at choosing gifts."

"So what were you planning on getting her, then?" Rose asked.

The Doctor turned the laptop so Rose could see the screen.

"A digital pedometer?" Rose asked, crinkling up her nose.

"What?" the Doctor said. "That's a cutting edge model."

Rose shook her head. "You might as well call her fat."

The Doctor didn't understand. "But she said something once about getting in shape."

"Trust me on this," Rose said. She looked back at the computer. "Do you have a plan B?" But before the Doctor could answer, she was looking at the Adipose Smart Scale on his bookmarked list. One look from her was enough to tell he had completely missed the mark again.

The Doctor scrolled down to the last item he had considered: a food processor.

Rose raised an eyebrow at this one, and the Doctor braced himself for her response. "Better," she said. "Does she like to cook?"

The Doctor had to admit to Rose that he had no idea. And now he had no idea what to get either.

"Do you have a picture of her?" Rose asked.

The Doctor had no idea how that would help him choose a gift, but he found Barbara's profile on a professional networking site and showed Rose. From there Rose found a few other pictures.

"She's pretty," commented Rose.

"I suppose," said the Doctor. He hadn't noticed.

Rose had now taken control of his computer and was making comments about seasonal color palates, fashion personalities, and other things the Doctor did not understand as she browsed Auton Distribution's merchandise. When she had finished, there were still three items bookmarked, but they were nothing like the items he had considered.

"This handbag style is really popular right now," Rose said pointing to the first item. "It would go with the colors I saw her wearing in the pictures. It's a brand-name, but not so expensive that she would feel you spent too much." She went on to explain her reasons for choosing the necklace and scarf that were also bookmarked, but the Doctor went with her first choice.

"How did you do that?" the Doctor asked.

Rose shrugged. "I spent a lot of time as a personal shopper, even after working as a manager." Then she smiled and nudged him with her shoulder. (He hadn't even noticed that they had scooted so close together while sharing the laptop.) "Your gifts were pretty bad. That would have been a disaster if it wasn't for me."

"Yes it would," he agreed. "Thank you."

"Anything for a friend," she said with a warm smile.

Between the assistance, the smile, and the proclamation of friendship, the Doctor thought he was going to melt on the spot. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so accepted. The only thing that prevented him from basking all day in the endorphins and dopamine, was the undeniable attraction to her that added a spark of adrenaline to the mix. He was staring into her eyes again. He had caught himself doing that the night before. He had also noticed that night how full and inviting her lips had been. His current observation yielded the same conclusion. He wanted to lean in just a little closer and find out what would happen if their lips should chance to meet. He wanted to, but he couldn't.

The Doctor straightened his posture. "Right, then," he said abruptly. "Breakfast."

"Er, yeah," Rose said, looking disoriented. "Breakfast. Right."

The Doctor stood, then offered a hand to help Rose up, which resulted in the same onslaught of chemicals that he had experienced while still sitting.

Fortunately, Rose spoke and broke the silence. "So, should we eat at the Restraunt Nébuleuse?"

"No," the Doctor said. "I found a place that's much better."

"Then lead the way," Rose said. "I'll go where you go."

The Doctor grinned. He knew Rose was only speaking of their morning meal, but he hoped the statement would hold true for the rest of the day. His schedule wouldn't be nearly as fun if she wasn't with him.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Yeah, yeah, I know I am teasing you again. But near-miss-kisses are one of the most fun parts of romantic storylines.

I do not know if I will get the second half of Christmas Eve up by Christmas, but I will try. Christmas Day will not be posted till the 26th for obvious reasons.

**Guest:** Yeah I didn't start out to write romances, but these characters more or less make me. :)


	5. Day 3: Wedneday Daytime (Christmas Eve)

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Day 3 – Christmas Eve (Day/Evening), Wednesday, 24 December**

"That's a Full English Breakfast!" Rose said after ordering her morning meal.

"Yep."

"It's not just croissants and jam and coffee!"

"Nope."

"It has bacon _and _sausage," Rose said, re-reading the description on the English side of the menu. "And beans! It even has the tomatoes!"

The Doctor chuckled. "Yep."

"How'd you find out about this place?" Rose asked the Doctor. "It's not even on the main street."

"There's this amazing invention called the internet…" he started.

Rose rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine," she said. "But, I mean, you actually looked for a place that makes English food, even with a gourmet restaurant on the ground floor of our hotel?"

"Yep," the Doctor said for the third time.

"But you can have anything you want," Rose said. "Why would you choose regular food like this?"

"I wasn't born into money," he told her. "Gourmet is fine now and then, but nothing beats regular English comfort food. Reminds me of home."

Rose responded with a simple nod. After the way he had reacted to the word "family" less than an hour before, she did not want to say anything to upset him. This was not because she was afraid of his reaction. She wasn't. But she could tell that he was harboring some deep hurt, and she could empathise. Her father had died before she was old enough to have any memories of him. Sometimes on Father's Day or other days when she had been feeling particularly melancholy, any mention of paternal love and attention would have her shaking her fists at the cosmos or succumbing to tears. Therefore she did not believe that the Doctor was being deliberately obtuse, just that he had developed a system of avoidance for whatever it was that bothered him.

"My mum was the best cook in all of Britain," the Doctor told her, and she let out an involuntary gasp at his remark. Apparently he was feeling open to sharing something about his family after all. And if that was the case, Rose was glad to listen.

"Now don't argue and tell me I'm biased and your mum is the best," he said, likely misinterpreting her gasp as offense. "The town knew it too." Rose laughed at this and waved her hands in a sort of surrender. Her mother's cooking was also well known with friends and family. But it was for the exact opposite reason that Mrs. Smith's cooking was known.

"She made the best Full English Breakfast every Sunday," the Doctor continued. "And Christmas was all about the food: Roast turkey with stuffing, carrots, parsnips, sprouts (she wouldn't let us have more stuffing till we ate the sprouts), bread sauce, cranberries, and pigs in blankets." The Doctor paused for a moment as their breakfast plates arrived and he cut into his food. Then between bites, he continued his reminiscing. "Desserts were the best though. Her mince pies were perfect and we always hated saving a few for Father Christmas. Wasn't allowed the sherry trifle till I was well grown, but I ate more than my share of the Christmas pudding."

The Doctor was smiling and Rose had a feeling she had been almost forgotten in the midst of his yuletide nostalgia. She didn't mind. The Doctor had said he didn't usually talk about himself. But he was talking now, and it seemed to be doing him good. Therefore Rose was happy to enjoy her breakfast and let him talk. He had, after all, done the same with her at dinner.

The Doctor continued to talk as they ate, and Rose was careful not to ask any questions that would seem too personal to the apparently-very-sensitive Doctor. This was fairly easy, because after he had moved on from Christmas dinner, he mentioned other dishes his mother had been an expert in. He then segued into foods he had eaten during his business travels, describing which ones he preferred and which ones he hoped to never eat again. When the conversation transitioned into travel, Rose told him how she had only taken holidays close to home but had always had a desire to see the world. Being a retail buyer would have meant traveling to fashion shows and international manufacturing sites. But, of course, that dream was never realized. She felt a little better when the Doctor assured her that business travel was never as satisfying as a holiday and that even he had rarely traveled for pleasure.

Soon breakfast was over. The Doctor insisted on paying since the location was his idea. Though Rose was accustomed to offering to pay her part before allowing someone else to pay, she found herself accepting his generosity without argument. Now she just had the awkwardness of determining what she was to do next, and whether or not the Doctor would be part of it.

"So what does your schedule look like for the day?" she asked as they were leaving the restaurant, hoping it did not sound as if was asking to be invited along.

"Jotted a few ideas down" he said, "nothing that can't rewritten." He paused. "What were your plans?"

"My ski pass and equipment hire covers the whole trip," she said with a shrug. "So probably that."

After a bit of awkward conversation, Rose and the Doctor decided to hit the slopes together. They made a quick trip back to the hotel for their ski clothes then found some courses at Rose's ability level that the Doctor assured her he would enjoy. By mid-afternoon, Rose's skill had almost matched the Doctor's, but she was beginning to want a change of pace.

"So what were some of those other ideas you had jotted down," ventured Rose as they rested on a bench near the chairlift. "I'm thinking I've had enough skiing for the day."

Twenty minutes later, the Doctor had taken them to a location a short distance down the hill. It was surrounded by a low white picket fence and decorated with red ribbons and Christmas greenery. The trees inside were covered with oversized ornaments and lights, and Christmas music played from speakers attached to their trunks. Inside, children were sliding down hills in sleds, toboggans, and inner tubes.

"Want to have a go?" the Doctor asked as they stepped inside.

She did, but she felt slightly self-conscious. "Won't we stick out a bit?" she asked. The only adults she could see on the hills appeared to be parents with their children. "I mean, sledding's a bit childish."

"There's no point in being grown-up if you can't be childish sometimes," the Doctor said as he entered the gate and headed toward a kiosk that handled sled rentals. Rose followed, and moments later they were climbing the highest hill in the area and dragging a wooden tobaggan behind them.

"They really ought to have chairlifts," Rose said in a half-serious complaint. "I was already tired from just goin' _down_hill."

Ahead of him, she heard the Doctor chuckle as he readied the toboggan on the hill and sat. "Stop moaning and sit down," he said patting the space if front of him.

Rose stepped over to the toboggan and sat, planting her feet against the wood that curved in front of her and gripping the front edge. The Doctor then moved forward slightly and put his arms around her waist. Despite the layers of warm clothing between them, Rose's pulse quickened at the contact.

"Ready?" the Doctor asked from behind her. After she nodded, he pushed forward then put his feet on the wood. The toboggan took of more rapidly than Rose had expected and she shrieked in surprise. Soon the limitations of a toboggan were evident; they were angling too far to the right and were about to hit the snowy embankment.

"You need to turn!" the Doctor shouted.

"How am I supposed to do that?" Rose shouted back.

"Use the ropes!" he answered.

She pulled the ropes to the left and they managed to avoid the snow bank, but the toboggan hit a large mound of snow in the process. When it did, the toboggan became airborne and pitched to the left, expelling its passengers. Rose was stunned for a moment as she lied in the cold snow. Then she burst out laughing. The Doctor beside her did the same, and the two continued laughing for while before they eventually stood and retrieved the toboggan.

"Had enough?" the Doctor asked, placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her forward.

Rose did her best to ignore the jolt of electricity that ran through her and focused on the child-like adventure instead. "Oh no," she said. "We've _got_ to do that again."

The Doctor and Rose tried several runs on several different hills; half of them ending in a state that was something other than upright. By the time the sky began to grow darker, they had determined that only children could be flawless at the sport.

"I'm completely knackerd," Rose said heading toward the area where people were returning their equipment. "What about you?"

"Getting there, yeah," the Doctor said without looking at her.

"Maybe we should head back to the hotel," Rose said with a shiver, but the Doctor wasn't listening. He was looking just past the booths. Rose followed his line of sight. A pre-teen boy was ascending a gentle hill holding the hand of a much younger girl who was most likely his sister. They sat together on a round blue plastic disk and glided down the gradual incline. The little girl squealed with delight.

"Doctor?" Rose said, trying to get his attention.

The boy lifted the little girl to standing then guided her over to a couple that was standing a short distance away. The girl raised up her arms and the woman lifted her up. "Dat was fun," the girl exclaimed in a childish version of English.

"Doctor?" Rose repeated.

Finally ,the Doctor turned to look at Rose. "Getting dark," he said. "We should head back to the hotel."

Rose nodded and the Doctor took her hand, but though they stood close physically, she could tell part of him was somewhere far away.

* * *

After an almost perfect day, the Doctor was left feeling unsettled. It was as if he had traveled back in time and was watching himself and Susan. How many hours each winter had they spent sledding the hills near their home? Even when he was grown and returned during Christmas, the first thing they would do is grab their sleds and find the nearest hill. He should have known something on his holiday would remind him of that. But somehow with Rose there, the pain was easier to bear.

Rose was shivering. Despite the fact that her gloved hand clasped his, he had neglected to pay attention to her. They needed to get back to the hotel and get warmed up.

"There's a bus in ten minutes," Rose said after returning their toboggan and checking the schedule she had pulled from her pocket. "Or we could try to get a cab."

The doctor was trying to decide which choice would get them heading back the soonest when he heard sleigh bells. Both he and Rose turned in the direction of the sound. A few meters away, a sleigh with two horses had stopped.

"Ever been on a sleigh ride?" he asked Rose with newfound excitement.

"Just once when I was a kid," she answered looking toward the sleigh with a look that seemed to mirror the excitement he felt. Then she frowned. "But does it actually go anywhere or just in a circle?"

The Doctor was about to answer that he had no idea when Rose spoke again. "Nevermind," she said. "How often do you get to go on a sleigh ride anyway?"

It turned out that the sleigh _did_ have a circuit, but that it included a few strategic drop-off points. One of them would put them a short walk from the hotel. The Doctor asked the price and the driver answered. It was more than twice as much as a cab ride and took cash only. Rose's face fell, and she started fishing in her pockets. But before she could count the bills in her possession, the Doctor had paid and was climbing aboard. He extended his hand to lift her up, but she hesitated.

"I can't let you pay my way," she said. "You already paid for breakfast and hired the toboggan."

The cost was a bigger issue to her than it was to him. He had a feeling that she was going to stand her ground and forgo the sleigh ride rather than let him pay for her again. He hated that money was getting in the way of the time he wanted to spend with her and wished there was a way he could assure her that he was not bothered by her limited budget. But if Rose was not going to ride in the sleigh, neither was he.

He looked down at the ticket in his hand, read it, then smiled. "I'm not paying your way," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm paying _my_ way. Been a long time since I've been on a sleigh ride and it seems like the perfect Christmas Eve activity." He waved the ticket in his hand. "Up to four riders, it's the same price," he said. "I'm goin' anyway. It'd be a shame if you don't take advantage of the free ride." He stopped and stretched out his hand again, hoping his persuasion would work.

A smile spread across Rose's face. "Very clever," she said, taking his hand and letting him pull her up. "But don't think you've pulled something over on me." She sat and picked up the heavy blanket that sat beside her and placed it over their laps. "Your generosity is showing."

"Fine," he said in surrender, "guilty." But as he picked up the blanket from his side and wrapped it around the two of them, he knew she was wrong. He wasn't generous; he was selfish. He wanted to take every waking moment of Rose Tyler's holiday and claim it for himself. And if he could have found a way to be present in her moments of slumber without crossing into the realm of impropriety, he would likely have claimed those too.

The temperature dropped as the sky turned dark and both the Doctor and Rose shivered simultaneously. Rose scooted closer to the Doctor, and it emboldened him to put an arm around her.

"I can see why people do this," Rose said after a moment. "It's so quiet and peaceful. And the snow and lights are just beautiful."

The Doctor listened to the rhythm of sleigh bells and horses' hooves. It really did evoke a feeling of peace. He had not felt that way on a Christmas holiday in over a decade. "Not a bad way to travel," he said with a nod as he turned to look at her.

"Better with two," she said and her warm smile invited the Doctor to let her in past the safety of his surface persona.

The image of the two children he had seen on the sledding hill came back to the forefront of his mind. It was quickly replaced by two other children decades earlier, and he could hear the child who had given him his name calling to him.

"Pweese, Doctah! Let's go down da big hill. I pwomise I won't tell Mummy."

The teen boy laughed. "My dear little sister. You know that's not true. You'll boast that you did it the minute we get home. And I'll have to hear once again what a bad child-minder I am."

"So we're not going," said Susan with a pout.

John "Doctor" Smith took his sister's hand and grinned. "That's not what I said at all. Now come on before I change my mind."

The sound of Susan's delighted giggles was replaced by the whinny of a horse, and the Doctor was brought back to the present. Rose was now resting her head against his shoulder. He looked down at her and made a decision. He had to tell her.

"My family's gone," he said abruptly before he could lose the nerve. "They're dead."

Rose lifted her head off his shoulder and looked at him with question and concern, but she didn't speak.

"They were killed." He looked briefly at Rose, then straight ahead. "My mum, my dad, my sister. Gone before their time."

"What happened?" she asked. And though it hurt, he was glad she had. He needed to say it out loud.

"There was a fire," he said "The fire brigade didn't get to them in time." He turned and saw sympathy in her eyes. "My parents had no living relatives. I'm the last of my line. I'm left carrying on all on my own because there's no one else."

Rose kept her gaze steady on the Doctor. Her eyes seemed misty. "There's me," she said.

The Doctor didn't know why, but her words felt like a promise.

"You've seen how angry I can be," he said. "Would you rather we part ways?" He didn't want her to say yes, but his conscience felt better having asked her.

"I don't know," Rose said. From the look on her face, the question must have hurt her. "I want—" Rose was interrupted when the sleigh came to a stop. Despite being beyond the appointed destination, the sleigh was standing directly in front of the Hotel Galaxie. "Do you smell bread baking?"

"Yeah," the Doctor said with a small laugh. "I do."

"I want dinner," she said.

The Doctor was suddenly aware that he was hungry. "Me too," he said.

"Right then," Rose said with resolution. "Before we decide anything else, dinner it is." She lifted the blanket off her lap and stood up. "Come on then, slowpoke," she said "Dinner's on me."

* * *

Rose wasn't sure what to expect during dinner. The day had started with Doctor snapping at her for asking a simple question about family and ending with him telling her what was likely the deepest pain in his life. Just like breakfast, he would let him lead the conversation.

The Doctor started with small talk, but as the courses continued, the conversation deepened. First he brought up Christmas celebrations. Then he talked about the personalities of his family members, sharing both their positive and not-so-positive qualities. Rose laughed along with him and was silent when his emotions kept him from continuing. As dinner came to a close, he told her that he couldn't share anymore.

After he had borne his heart and his pain, Rose was compelled to do the same. "My father's gone," she told him. "My parents were supposed to attend a wedding when I was just a baby, but he was late. He'd been to get a wedding present, a vase." She looked down at her coffee. "Mum always said, 'that stupid vase.' He got out of the car, crossed the road, and was struck by a hit and run driver." She took the Doctor's hand. "I'm not trying to say it is the same," she said. "It's not. But I know what it is to have someone be missing from your life."

For the first time since he began to share, the Doctor's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you," he whispered.

Dinner ended and the pair was at a loss for what to do. While the feeling of grief had mostly lifted, the rest of the hotel guests were aware that it was Christmas Eve and the atmosphere felt more joyful than Rose and the Doctor were prepared to face.

"We could just sit by the fire and talk," suggested Rose as they entered the lobby. But the area around the fireplace had been turned into a place for children, with hotel employees giving out cocoa and cider and reading stories of Père Noël—Father Christmas—in both French and English.

The Doctor and Rose exchanged glances, and it was clear that neither one of them desired to join that crowd. They started walking toward the lift that would take them to their suites since neither of them had any idea what else to do. "It _is_ rather nice, though," said Rose once they were in the lift. "If I was a kid I would have loved that."

"I bet they're not leaving mince pies there, though," the Doctor said.

"Probably not," Rose agreed. The lift doors open and they made their way down the hallway to their suites. "I never had a fireplace to leave them by anyway," she said. "Mum hung a special key on the door so Santa could get in. This is the first year I've had a fireplace on Christmas Eve." When Rose reached her door, it occurred to her what she had just said. "I have a fireplace!" she said.

"So do I," the Doctor said as he furrowed his brow in confusion. "Guessing all the suites do."

"We wanted to sit by the fire and talk, didn't we? What's wrong with one of _our_ fireplaces?"

The Doctor looked stunned, and despite the deep level of conversation, Rose was worried she was scaring him away by being too forward. "Just to talk," she added.

"Okay," they Doctor agreed. Then he looked down at his clothes. They were both still in their ski outfits. "Just let me change first."

Rose agreed and bid him a temporary farewell. She changed into a soft t-shirt and yoga style trousers and wrapped herself in her pink fleecy dressing gown. By the time the Doctor knocked on her door, she had started the coffee brewing, and had found a Christmas music station on the radio. But despite the quiet evening being her idea, she was nervous.

"Just to talk," she reminded herself. Then she opened the door.

The Doctor was still wearing an olive colored jumper, but he appeared have on black tracksuit bottoms rather than jeans. And, like Rose, he was wearing a dressing gown. His was the same blue as the linens in his room.

She smiled in greeting. "I don't know how to set the fire," she confessed as she let him in. "There's no wood."

"That's coz it's just gas," he told her. He moved over to the fireplace, flicked a switch, and the flames appeared. Then he sat in the same place on Rose's sofa as he had sat on his that morning.

Rose wasn't sure why she had been nervous, because as soon as she joined him, the conversation flowed easily. They talked of Christmas songs, told some of the worst jokes they had ever read in Christmas crackers, and shared some of their favorite Christmas memories. At some point in their conversation (or perhaps it happened gradually) Rose ended up leaning against him in such a manner that she was still essentially sitting on his right side, but with her head resting against his left shoulder. His left arm supported her, and his right arm was wrapped around her. She could've found reason to stoke the desire that lied right under the surface, but she was comfortable in his arms and content with the pace of their relationship. She felt him kiss the top of her head and she smiled. Then, as the fire flickered with a mesmerizing glow, she fell asleep.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I am now behind real time, but just a bit, so I hope you are still in the mood to read another day or two of Christmas-themed events. Again, I am almost certain there are typos and errors, but I will come back to them. As uncharacteristic as it is for me, my goal is to get the story out and refine it all later. I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and Boxing Day and that you have a wonderful weekend.


	6. Day 4: Thursday Morning (Christmas)

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Day 4 – Christmas Morning, Thursday, 25 December**

Rose woke to Slade's song "Merry Xmas Everybody" blaring from the satellite clock radio on her nightstand. And as it asked if she was hanging stockings on the wall, she looked at the time through blurry eyes and hit a large button on top, hoping it would make stop. When it was again silent, she fell back into her pillow wondering why the alarm was on to begin with. It took a moment for her tired brain to be able to piece things together. Rose had used the radio to play Christmas music the night before, and she had turned volume high enough that she and the Doctor would be able to hear the music from the salon. She must have somehow turned on the alarm in the process, which had apparently been set by the last guest to go off at nine in the morning. But Rose was not on a schedule, so she let herself fall back asleep.

Moments later, Slade was once again wishing her a merry Christmas. Rose groaned and smacked the radio again. She looked at the time display while making sure the alarm was actually off this time. "Who sets the snooze alarm for three minutes later?" she grumbled. Rose put her head back on the pillow, but it was no use; she was awake now and likely to stay that way.

"Fine," she murmured to herself as she rubbed her eyes and scooted to a sitting position. "I'm up." But the minute Rose's eyes managed to focus, she doubted her statement. "Maybe I'm _not_ up yet," she said as she looked around the room. It appeared as if Rose were in some sort of snow kingdom, and she wondered if she were still dreaming. Paper snowflakes filled the room. Some hung from lights and other objects with strings while others were attached to the walls with clear tape. White paper chains were draped over the windows. A three-dimensional white paper wreath was also attached to the wall opposite her bed. It was accented with round red pen marks that Rose guessed were supposed to represent berries. And, on the nightstand opposite the clock radio there sat a conical tree that appeared to be made from old magazines.

None of the decorations had been there the night before. And as Rose reflected further, she realized that _she_ had not been there the night before either. The last thing she could remember was feeling drowsy in front of the fire. She looked down at the dressing gown she was still wearing and concluded that the Doctor must have walked her to her bedroom while she was barely conscious in the same manner her mother would sometimes do when she had fallen asleep watching telly. Rose couldn't decide if the explanation made her feel cared for or self-conscious.

Rose didn't dwell long on the thought, however, because something at the foot of her bed had caught her attention. She turned down the duvet then reached forward to retrieve the item. It was a velvety cranberry-colored Christmas stocking. She turned it around a few times in amazement, then did what one ought to do when confronted with a stocking at the foot of one's bed on Christmas morning: she reached inside and began to draw out the contents. When she had finished, her duvet was covered in an assortment of French chocolates, a tube of cherry lip balm, a pack of gum, a snowman ornament that said "Joyeaux Noel," a Hotel Galaxie magnet that looked almost identical to her complimentary meal card, and a single tangerine. It seemed that Father Christmas had visited her while she slept, though she guessed that her version of the Christmas giver was beardless with dark cropped hair and steel blue eyes. She just had no idea how he had done it.

Rose gathered the contents of her stocking and put them back inside, knocking the tangerine off the end of bed in the process. When Rose stood to pick it up, she saw more than just the citrus fruit on the ground. There were two items wrapped in the same plain white paper that was used to make her decorations. Like the wreath, they were embellished with the use of a red pen, except that they were decorated with a few Santa hats rather than dots. The same red pen was used to scrawl the word "Rose" across the top of each gift.

Rose picked the gifts up and sat on the edge of the bed. With utmost care, she lifted the tape from one of the presents and removed the wrapping with very little tearing. Inside was a pair of earmuffs that perfectly matched her new ski outfit. She unwrapped the second gift with the same care and found a scarf that matched the earmuffs. Rose smiled. She was pretty sure all of her presents came from the gift shop downstairs. But since she had expected nothing, and the Doctor seemed to have put thought into his gifts, they were very precious to her.

Rose stood and walked around the bedroom to examine the decorations more closely. She couldn't imagine the time that had to have been devoted to making all the items. She marveled most at the snowflakes. Each one of them was different and appeared to have been cut by hand. He had to have been up half the night making them.

Rose got ready for the day then entered the salon. It too had been touched by Christmas magic, though this time it looked as if Santa had employed some creative borrowing. A potted Christmas tree that looked very much like the one that had been in the hallway outside Rose's suite now stood to the left of the fireplace. Rose flicked the switch to start the fire and sat on the sofa. It was a lovely scene, and it wasn't just the fire that filled her with warmth.

* * *

The Doctor's mobile chirped its electronic wake-up ringtone, and he instantly picked it up and set it for fifteen minutes later. He usually only needed about six hours of sleep per night and typically woke without the aid of an alarm, but he had gotten less sleep than usual. After he had guided a sleepy Rose her to bed and turned off the music, he had intended to let himself out and retire to his own bed, but he saw her key card on the table and had a flash of inspiration. He took the key card and, after a quick stop at his room to switch from his dressing gown to his leather jacket, headed to the gift shop downstairs just minutes before it had closed. When he had returned to his suite with his treasures, another thought hit him, and despite the late hour, he knew he had to follow through. He had opened his briefcase and found a stack of printer paper and few other office supplies. Now, even without waking fully, he could feel the ache in his hands, and they felt as if they were still holding scissors. His eyes ached from lack of sleep. Therefore, he was going to allow himself the luxury of rising late.

Fifteen minutes later came too soon, but the Doctor knew he would feel awake once he got himself up and moving. It was a quarter to ten and seemed incredibly late to the Doctor who was used to getting up at six, but he was fairly certain Rose had not been up long either. He got ready as quickly as he could and was soon knocking on her door.

"Happy Christmas, Rose!" he said when she had opened the door, pulling her into a hug as he did. It was only in the midst of the embrace that he wondered if it had been a good idea.

Fortunately, she returned the embrace then pulled back with a bright smile. "Happy Christmas, Doctor," she said. Rose let him in and closed the door and the Doctor waited anxiously for her to say something about her morning. Apparently he was not too subtle about it.

"Look at you, beaming away like you're Father Christmas," she said, mirroring his smile.

"Who says I'm not?" he said, still grinning. Children receiving gifts on Christmas had no idea how much happier it made one to be the giver. "Go on, ask me anything."

Rose walked toward the bedroom and gestured with her head for him to follow. They walked in a few steps then stopped. She spun slowly with a hand out indicating the decorations. There was a look of wonder in her eyes. "How?" she asked.

"Seems that even though you have a fireplace this year," the Doctor said, "Santa must've used a key like he always has."

"Right," said Rose slowly. "And how long did it take Santa to make and put up all these decorations?"

The Doctor was thrilled that Rose liked his gesture but felt suddenly self conscious. "He might've lost count after two hours," he answered.

Rose's jaw dropped and the Doctor shrugged. Before he could say or do anything else, Rose had rushed toward him, thrown her arms around him, and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you so much, Doctor."

The Doctor was overwhelmed by her gesture, but did his best not to show it.

"I like the gifts too," she told him as she stepped back. "Thank you."

"Not a disaster?" he asked, thinking of his attempts to get Barbara a gift.

"Not at all," she said. "I only wish I'd gotten you something."

He wanted to tell her how much she had given him just by caring about him, but he couldn't find the right words. "Your company has been gift enough," is what he managed to say.

Rose smiled. "You _do_ know that sounds a bit cliché, don't you?" she asked.

"As in: 'Your presence is present enough?' " he responded with a chuckle. "Yeah I suppose so." He paused and looked in her eyes. "Except I really mean it. The last few days…" he said, then stopped. He didn't know how to explain the difference she had made in him.

"You're welcome," Rose said. She took his hand and squeezed it. "Now," she said with a change of energy, as she let go of his hand to grasp a snowflake. "Tell me about these snowflakes. They're amazing!"

"Susan used to make them," the Doctor told her. He walked over to one that was hanging from a string and turned it in his hand. "Every year she'd make several dozens. She'd decorate the house and use them as gift tags." He walked over to another snowflake that was similar in style to the ones his sister would make. "We'd all make them too, but hers were the best. Could put pictures of angels and trees in them, even. We saved our favorites each year, but they're all gone now."

"I am sure it would have made her happy to know you carried on the tradition," Rose said. She was back by his side and had put an arm on his shoulder.

He nodded but he was overtaken by emotion and could not respond. He found the edge of the bed and sat down. "Oh Rose," he said in a voice laden with emotion. "They're all gone." He had spent twelve years trying to avoid the pain, thinking that denying the memory of his family would somehow make it easier, but he knew now he had been wrong. "It was my fault," he said as tears blurred his vision. Rose had sat next to him, but he couldn't look at her. "My parents had mentioned concerns with the wiring a few times when I had phoned them, but I dismissed it. I could've come back…found someone to inspect the house, but I didn't. I was too busy trying to make something of myself." He shook his head in self loathing. "Susan was just months from her eighteenth birthday."

The Doctor felt Rose put an arm around his back and her head on his shoulder. The act of compassion broke down his final barrier and he felt tears fall silently down his cheek. In response, Rose pulled him into a hug. He grasped her as if she was some sort of life support, fearing that he would not be able to keep it together if she let go.

" 'S'okay," she said. "I'm not going anywhere."

It was probably a much shorter time than it seemed to the Doctor, but they stayed in that position until he was ready to let go. When he did, he was surprised to find that Rose's face was also wet with tears.

She laughed self-consciously. "It's always better to cry with a friend," she said. She stood and reached out her hand to help him stand. "Better?" she asked.

He nodded. "Thanks to you," he said.

He could tell she was going to protest so he put a finger on her lips. "Yes it _is_ because of you." He put his hand down and studied her face in awe. "I don't know how you do it, Rose Tyler, but you make me better."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I decided to stop here because writing on a shared computer is limiting my time and I didn't want anyone to wait longer than they needed. Plus, after the emotion, there was a good break here before more yuletide fun begins. Hopefully Christmas day will be concluded by tomorrow and we can move on to the days that follow.

I am doing my best to keep this John "Doctor" Smith reminiscent of his canon counterpart, but I am taking deliberate liberties (such as how quickly the two grow together) in order to make the story move along within the time they have.

And, of course, I added Slade's "Merry Xmas Everybody" and a tangerine. How could I not?

**Linda Who:** Spoilers! But considering the genre, I think you're pretty safe assuming things will tie up satisfactorily.


	7. Day 4: Thursday Evening (Christmas)

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Day 4 – Christmas Evening, Thursday, 25 December**

"I'm just saying," Rose said to the Doctor as she followed his lead to some undisclosed location and reflected on their morning of skiing. "If I had known there was a sort-of dress code for the day, I might've tried to follow it."

The Doctor smirked. "Complete with beard and red cap?"

"Why not?" Rose said. "Christmas is fun, fancy dress is fun, and skiing is fun. It's just combining all three together," she looked over at the Doctor, who seemed unconvinced. "Why? Wouldn't you?"

"No," the Doctor answered. "Others are free to find entertainment by skiing dressed as Father Christmas, but I know what I like to wear and prefer to stick to it."

"So unless you are in a snow coat, it's jeans, a jumper, and a leather jacket every day?" Rose asked him.

"Pretty much, yeah," the Doctor answered.

"Even at work?" she asked.

"Even at work," the Doctor said. "It _is_ possible to develop market strategy in a jumper. The brain doesn't stop working if you're not in a suit."

"Guess not," Rose said, unsure how else to respond. But that remark was instantly followed by a gasp as they turned a corner. "Amazing!" she exclaimed as she took in the sight before her. "Where are we?"

"Snow Sculpture Lane," the Doctor informed her. "Every year talented sculptors are chosen to create giant displays out of snow. This year five artists are featured, and these are their designs."

Rose stepped forward in wonder. She was not looking simple snowmen that happened to be a bit larger than life; these were enormous works of art. The first one, an igloo, was simple in concept but big enough to fit twenty or more people inside and included a carving of a life-sized boy with chubby cheeks dressed in fur, who stood by the entrance with a welcoming grin.

"The sculptures are first carved out by chainsaws to get the basic shape," the Doctor said as Rose circled the igloo and then ventured inside, "then the artists use their skill to create intricate details in the snow."

"I can't believe this is just snow," she marveled. She moved on to the next display, which was a nativity scene with figures that were almost double the size of the average person. It included a rough shelter that housed the holy family, a shepherd, three wise men, a sheep, and a donkey. All of which were being watched over by an angel that appeared to be in prayer.

"It's a tradition that has been going on for decades now," the Doctor told her. "People look forward to it every year."

"I can see why," Rose said and she gazed at a bust of Santa Claus that was taller than she was. "Being able to visit this place and see these things, it's…" she said trying to think of the right adjective.

"Fantastic," the Doctor concluded. Despite sounding like a tour-guide a second before, he appeared to be in as much awe as she was.

"Yeah," Rose agreed. "Think about it. It's Christmas in Val d'Isere in two thousand fourteen. Happens once—just once—and it's gone, it's finished, it'll never happen again. And we're part of the lucky few who get to experience it."

"Does make you appreciate things more," the Doctor agreed.

They wandered around the area marveling at the sculptures until Rose's phone rang. "It's my mum," she said as she looked at the display. "I'll just be a minute."

"Actually need to make a call myself," said the Doctor as Rose pressed the accept button. She nodded and wandered a few feet away while the Doctor pulled his mobile out of his pocket.

After talking to her mother (and threatening to end the call if she passed the phone to other family members who wanted to ask about her holiday) Rose located the Doctor sitting on a bench by a giant eagle head.

"They're sitting down to dinner now," Rose said to him. "Made me realize I was hungry. Should we go back to the hotel?" Rose realized as she said this that she had just presumed that they would be dining together. At some point she had just taken it for granted that they would spend the rest of her holiday in each other's company.

"Got a better plan," the Doctor said, "and closer." He took her hand and walked down the path to the exit of Snow Sculpture Lane.

* * *

"Not quite homemade," the Doctor said as their dinner plates arrived at the table, "but closer to traditional than anything Restararunt Nébuleuse has to offer." Each plate contained a sampling of turkey and some of the typical English Christmas side dishes.

"I should have known you'd choose this place after the breakfast they served," Rose said as she cut her turkey. "I heard the catered chalets have meals that are just like home cooked ones. Since you weren't restricted by affordable travel packages like me, you could've stayed at one of those instead."

"Didn't want to," the Doctor said, doing his best to keep his expression neutral rather than show the uneasiness he felt. "Too domestic."

"What's wrong with domestic?" Rose asked in a tone that sounded like she might be offended.

"Nothing," the Doctor said. "In theory anyway. But I prefer to keep to myself. Those chalets take a bunch of strangers and throw them together like an artificial family. Force you to eat meals with someone you just met."

Rose looked down at her plate and picked at her food. "Seems that's what _we're_ doing," she said in a quiet voice.

The Doctor's heart sank when he saw the unintended impact of his words. He wanted to tell her that she had misunderstood, and that his dislike of domestic situations applied only to the home-like atmosphere of a chalet. But the truth was that since the death of his family, he refused to get close to anyone and avoided any social interaction that went beyond public politeness or necessary business relationships. She was an accident, an unexpected exception that was beginning to make him rethink his standoffish nature. And now that the change had begun, he found himself less threatened by the idea of family and friendship.

The Doctor struggled to find the words to tell Rose what he meant in way that would not hurt her further or threaten to scare her off. If he failed, he would be alone. And while it wouldn't be any different on the surface than the way the holiday had begun, the pain would be greater. The Doctor couldn't explain why, but he needed her.

The Doctor looked at the top of Rose's blond head wishing she would look up. Maybe she could read his intention in his face. But she had concentrated all her intention on her meal.

"I—" the Doctor started, but his voice cracked. "It's different," he said, trying again. "Our first meeting may have been chance, but I choose to spend time with you. It's not an obligation." He wanted to explain further, but unwanted emotion rendered him speechless.

" 'S'okay," Rose said. "I guess I'm just missing home more than I thought I would, and it felt better thinking I had a friend here."

"You _are _my friend," the Doctor insisted, surprising himself. Though Rose had said the word more than once, it was the first time he had said it as something other than a question. But now that he had said it aloud, even "friend" seemed inadequate. The problem was, he didn't know if there was a word that existed for someone who so suddenly seemed to understand you better than you understood yourself. So friend would have to do.

Fortunately, Rose seemed satisfied with his statement and her face had brightened. "I almost forgot," she said suddenly. She took her handbag off the chair on which it had been hanging and began to rummage inside. She immerged with a Christmas cracker. "My mum must've hid it inside my suitcase when I wasn't looking," she said. "I only have one, but we could share it."

The sight of the cracker one again caused the Doctor's mind to flash back to the family he had lost. He wanted to decline from participating, but when he saw Rose's expectant face, he found himself giving in to her wish. "Okay," he said. "I'll have a go." He grasped one end of the tube while Rose held the other, and after the count of three, they both pulled their end.

"You win!" Rose said gleefully.

The Doctor looked down. He had indeed ended up with the larger portion, but he was not convinced it was a win. He never liked wearing the tissue paper crown even when he was with his family. He certainly wasn't about to wear it in a restaurant in France surrounded by strangers. Therefore, he was relieved when he peered inside and discovered that the hat within was pink. "Oh, that's yours," he said, handing his half of the cracker to her.

"Oh, it's pink!" she said gleefully, unfolding the crown and putting it on. She grinned at him with her tongue touching the front of her right canine tooth. It was the second time the Doctor had seen that particular smile, and he was amazed at the effect it had on him. Therefore, he accepted graciously the tin whistle key ring she insisted he take as his rightfully-won prize, and he read the riddle the cracker contained without grumbling. (Though they both groaned at the terrible pun.)

As dinner ended and he and Rose ate their Christmas pudding, the Doctor was overcome by a sense of contentment. It was a feeling he almost could not remember experiencing. His family was still gone, and he could still feel the hole their absence caused, but he was able to think on them with fondness, less plagued with the survivor's guilt that their memories usually brought. In addition, the time spent with his new and only friend was beginning to redefine what Christmas could mean to him.

"It's like magic," Rose said. The Doctor looked up. Her words sounded like a commentary on the thoughts he had just had. But Rose was looking out the window at snow that had just begun to fall. "I love when it snows on Christmas," she said.

"Me too," agreed the Doctor watching as the snowflakes that fell were illuminated by the lights outside. It really did seem like magic.

* * *

"So what is this surprise, then?" asked Rose suspiciously when she and the Doctor had returned to the hotel. But the Doctor did not answer. He simply extended his arm and gestured toward a pair of double doors. "What's in there?" she tried again as her excitement mounted. The Doctor just repeated his action with more emphasis.

Rose opened the doors and stepped inside. She was standing on the edge of a large circular banquet room with a polished wooden floor and surrounded by marbled columns. The ceiling was painted like a starry sky (likely a nod to the hotel's name) with a disco ball hanging from the center. Tables were placed around the perimeter, and at one end there was a sound system. The room was adorned with Christmas decorations. The most notable was a large tree that stood in the middle of the room decorated with gold and crystal ornaments and countless white fairy lights. Rose turned back and looked at the Doctor waiting for explanation.

"This is the famous _Hotel Galaxie_ Solar Ballroom," the Doctor said, walking over to where she was standing. "Or _Salle de Bal Solaire_ in French It's named for its round shape. And it happens to be the site of the annual Yule Ball."

"Like Harry Potter?" Rose asked after hearing the name.

The Doctor laughed. "Same basic idea," he said, "but without the magic. This is where we will be spending the evening. The event starts in about half an hour."

In excitement, Rose ran toward the center of the room. Then she turned around slowly taking in all the sights around her. She was about to place her handbag on a table to claim it when the Doctor's voice got her attention.

"Hold on," he said "What do you think you're doing?"

"Claiming a table," she told him.

"Dressed like that, you're going to stand out," he told her. "And not in a way you'd want to."

Rose looked down at the ski clothes she had been wearing all day. He was right.

"There's a formal-wear shop in the hotel. First left, second right, third on the left, go straight ahead, fifth store on your left. Tell them to put it on John Smith's account."

She was about to protest to him spending more money on her, but he stopped her as soon as she opened her mouth. "And don't argue that I shouldn't do it. Now hurry up!"

Rose was stunned, but ran ahead to do as instructed. Forty five minutes later, she had returned to the ballroom wearing a dress that she knew had to cost as more than her whole wardrobe at home. The top of the dress was black and rested off her shoulders, and it had a full maroon skirt that reached almost to the floor. The woman in the dress shop had found her black high heel sandals to match then sent her to the beauty+ salon where they put her hair up in a twist and did her make-up for her. Then they loaned her diamond pendant earrings and a diamond choker, assuring her that John Smith's account was surety enough for their return.

The Doctor had his back to Rose when she returned to the entrance of the ballroom. She cleared her throat and he turned around.

"Blimey!" he exclaimed, and his eyes were wide with surprise.

Rose blushed. She was already feeling out of place in her new outfit and didn't know how to interpret his reaction.

"Don't laugh," she said, just as her nerves caused _her_ to laugh.

"You look beautiful," he said, sounding as if he were complete shock.

"Considering," she said with a shrug.

"Considering what?" the Doctor asked with his brow furrowed.

"Considering I'm a shop girl from the estates," she said in self-depreciation. This was just another Cinderella moment like her first night at the hotel. Eventually midnight would strike and she would be left with nothing but a pumpkin. She could play the fairy tale for a night, but this was reality. And in real life, no one in her position ever ended up with the prince.

The Doctor's eyes were fixed upon her. "Where you're from doesn't matter," he said softly. "Just accept the compliment."

"Okay," she said, feeling lightheaded. "Thanks." She turned her attention to the Doctor's outfit so she could compliment him in turn but found him in his standard attire. Before she could filter the words that were coming from her lips, she said, "Aren't you going to change?"

"I changed my jumper," he told her with a shrug. "Come on." He offered Rose her arm, and she took it gladly, feeling very much like royalty.

As soon as the Doctor pulled the door open, they were met by a steward in a blue uniform. "Who the hell are you?" he asked.

"Oh, that's nice, thanks," the Doctor responded in obvious sarcasm.

"You can't come in," said the rude steward. "This is an exclusive event. Only invited guests are allowed."

"That's me. I'm a guest," said the Doctor. He let go of Rose's arm and pulled a folded paper from his lapel pocket. "Look, I've got an invitation," he said as he unfolded it. "Look. There, you see?" Rose glanced that the paper, which appeared to be a printout of a guest list, as the Doctor pointed to the bottom of the page. "John D. Smith plus one. I'm John Smith, this is Rose Tyler. She's my plus one. Is that all right?"

The Doctor put away the paper and looked at the steward the type of authoritative stare Rose associated with teachers and headmasters.

"Well, obviously. Apologies, et cetera," said the steward without changing his pretentious tone. "Enjoy."

"You were invited to this ball?" Rose whispered. "I thought your whole trip was spontaneous."

"It was," the Doctor whispered back. "Called in a last minute donation. Opens a lot of doors."

Rose nodded without comment, feeling even more aware of the lifestyle differences between the Doctor and her.

"We have in attendance Doctor John D. Smith and Miss Rose Tyler," announced the steward in English and then again in French, sounding much more gracious than he had previously.

The few people who were already inside turned to look at them, nodding politely then returning to their cocktails and conversations. Moments later, the steward spoke again. "And now, might I introduce the next honored guest? Representing the Rainforest Preserve of Guyana, we have Jabe Cheam."

Rose turned to see a dark-haired woman with bronzed skin and wearing a simple black cocktail dress enter the banquet room. After her, a steady stream of guests entered as the steward announced them. They seemed to come from all over the world and most of them came with titles of honor.

"The great and the good are gathering to raise money for the hotel's Children in Need Foundation," he looked around the room and raised his eyes. "Mind you, when I say 'the great and the good,' what I mean is, 'the rich.' " Rose caught the Doctor roll his eyes. He had every right to be counted among the others in the room, and yet he didn't seem to fit with the crowd much more than did Rose, and it was due to more than just the outfit he was wearing.

"And last but not least," announced the steward again, "our very special guest. Ladies and gentlemen: your hostess for the evening, the Lady Cassandra O'Brien."

As the steward repeated his announcement in French, Rose watched Lady Cassandra float through the room with an air of self-importance. As she did, she heaped praise upon herself and spoke with pride about her youthful appearance, which Rose could tell by her nearly non-existent nose and tightly stretched skin, had been aided by plastic surgery. Eventually the aristocrat stopped at a microphone and began to speak. Rose barely paid attention until it was clear that the speech was close to concluding.

"But this night isn't all about me, is it?" said Lady Cassandra with a fake laugh and a tone that suggested that she did indeed expect the night to be all about her. "This year's contribution to the Children in Need Foundation is almost double last year's numbers." There was polite applause throughout the circular room. "So let's celebrate this great achievement and the Christmas season." She turned to the deejay who had set up behind her, and with great fanfare said, "Play on!"

Once the music had begun, the Doctor found a two-person table for Rose and him, and they sat.

"What do you think, then?" the Doctor asked her.

"Fine," said Rose. "Once you get past the pomp of it all." She realized her tone likely sounded judgmental, and spoke quickly to correct it. "I mean it is beautiful and so elegant, but some of the people…"

"The rich are like everyone else, Rose," the Doctor said. "Some are humble and down to earth…" he said as he nodded in the direction of Jabe from Guyana. Jabe saw him and waved. "Others feel the need to tell others how important they are." He didn't even need to indicate Lady Cassandra. "Most fall somewhere in between."

The Doctor's words put Rose at ease. She also realized that no one present knew how much or how little her net worth was, so she decided not to worry and just have fun. The Doctor introduced her to Jabe, with whom he and Arcadia Associated had worked to ensure corporate responsibility to the environment. Then, despite a large dinner, they sampled the _hors d'oeuvres_ and desserts that were being offered. What Rose really wanted to do was dance, but though they were at an event that was called the Yule Ball, the Doctor showed no indication of asking her.

After a while, the Doctor temporarily excused himself, so Rose spent some time talking to Jabe. As she did, a man in a military dress uniform approached them. "May I have this dance?" he asked Rose in an American accent . He was tall, in his early thirties, and had a smile that was heavy on charm.

"I sort of came with someone," she said as she searched the room for the Doctor.

"I'm not proposing," the man said, "just asking you to dance. When your boyfriend returns, I will gladly step away."

"He's not exactly my…" started Rose, then she stopped. She had no idea how to explain her friendship with the Doctor. "Nevermind," she said. She heard the lively song playing and decided it was silly to decline the offer. "I would be glad to dance with you," she told the man, "but just one dance."

The man nodded once and held out a hand. Rose took it, and the man lead her to the dance floor. However, just as they were ready to begin, the song changed to something slower. It seemed rude to change her mind, so she let the man take her hand, and he put his other hand at her waist. Soon they were dancing to a slow medodic version of "Baby It's Cold Outside."

"The name's Captain Jack Harkness," her dance partner said. "United States Army. I'm stationed in Italy, but I'm on leave over Christmas. I've been helping with the Children in Need Toy Drive while on vacation."

"I'm Rose," said Rose in response. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but it seemed they were dancing closer together than they had when they had begun.

"So did Santa get _you_ everything you wanted for Christmas?" Captain Jack asked, speaking directly into her ear. This time she was sure their bodies were much closer.

"How is it that you can say something so innocent and make it sound so suggestive?" Rose said, pulling back to increase the distance between them.

"Just a skill of mine," said Jack as he spun her around.

Rose couldn't help but smile. She wasn't falling for the charm that he was laying on rather thickly, but it did feel good to dance.

"So what's your connection to this bunch of big shots?" Jack asked as they continued to dance. "You don't seem to have the same air about you."

"Rich people are just like everyone else," Rose said, echoing what the Doctor said earlier. "Not everyone acts like they're better than others."

"Yes, but you're still not one of them," he said pulling her suddenly closer again, "are you?"

"Well, no," started Rose but she didn't finish because the song ended. She let go of Jack. "I really need to find the—" She turned around to find the Doctor standing in front of her with two glasses of champagne. "Doctor! I was about to go find you." Aware that the other man was still standing behind her, she began introductions. "Doctor, this is Captian Jack Harknes. Jack, this is—"

"Doctor John Smith," finished Jack. "I heard them announce the two of you when you came in. You make a cute couple." Neither Rose nor the Doctor responded to Jack's comment, nor could Rose bring herself to look at the Doctor's reaction. She was already aware that her cheeks were burning. "Well," spoke Jack to break the silence. "I have more dancing to do." He winked (though Rose was not sure at whom) and said "Merry Christmas," before sauntering off.

"He asked to dance," Rose said, feeling compelled to explain. "It seemed impolite to say no."

"It's a ball, Rose," said the Doctor as they moved to the edge of the dance floor. "You're allowed to dance. Though just about everyone else here is likely a better dance partner than that bloke."

"Why don't you like him?" asked Rose.

"Seems like a con-man," the Doctor answered. "Why do _you_ like him?"

"He's different than most of the pretentious people here," Rose said. "I like him because he's like you in that sense, except that he dances."

The Doctor's mouth gaped open and he shook his head in response to her statement.

"What?" Rose asked.

"You just assume that I don't dance," he said, sounding slightly offended.

"What, are you telling me you _do_ dance?" asked Rose.

"Close to forty, me. Just because I usually keep to myself doesn't mean I never get out. I think you can assume at some point I've danced."

"You?" Rose said in mix of surprise and teasing. "Because we've been here a while and I haven't seen any dancing."

"Well," said the Doctor. "I've got the moves, but I wouldn't want to boast."

Just then the music switched to a slow Big Band song that, thanks to Rose's grandmother introducing her to wide variety of music, Rose recognized as "Moonlight Serenade." She extended a hand out to the Doctor in invitation. "You've got the moves?" she challenged him. "Show me your moves."

"Rose," said the Doctor in hesitation. "I'm holding champagne flutes."

Rose took the drinks and deposited them on the nearest table. Then she walked back over to the Doctor and held out her hand again.

"Come on then," she said. "The party won't stop just because the Doctor dances."

The Doctor's eyes looked straight at Rose's as he placed his hand at her hip and grasped her right hand. It made Rose's heart thrill. But then his expression changed to a frown. "Don't you find it interesting that Jack didn't ask you to dance until I walked away?"

"What?" Rose said, blinking in surprise.

"I stepped away for a moment," said the Doctor. "And that's when he walked up."

"Yeah, about two minutes after you left me, I guess," she said, wishing they would do more than stand in one place.

"And you don't find that strange?" the Doctor asked.

"Is this you dancing?" Rose asked. "Because I've got notes."

"He said he noticed us when we came in," the Doctor said. "But he still asked you to dance the minute I wasn't there."

"Captain Jack was just being nice," Rose said with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh, we're calling him Captain Jack now, are we?" the Doctor replied.

"Well," said Rose, feeling slightly annoyed, "his name's Jack and he's a Captain."

"How do you know he's even a Captain?" retorted the Doctor.

"Do you know what I think?" she said as she smirked and looked at the Doctor with raised eybrows. "I think you're experiencing Captain envy." Then she repositioned the Doctor's hand on her waist and moved in closer to him. "You'll find your feet at the end of your legs. You may care to move them."

They danced a few steps before the Doctor spoke again. "If he really is a Captain," he said, "he's using his rank as a chat-up line."

"Yeah?" said Rose, speaking right into the Doctor's ear the way Jack had done with her. "Shame it didn't work." As she said this, the Doctor stepped to the side and ran into someone walking by.

"Actually, I _am_ a Captain," said the person he hit, who turned out to be none other than Jack Harkness, "but I have much better pick-up lines than that." He paused for a second, grinning at the Doctor and Rose. "But never mind me," Jack said with a wave of his hand, "carry on with whatever it was you were doing."

"We were talking about dancing," the Doctor said defensively.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "It didn't look like talking."

"It didn't feel like dancing," murmured Rose, who was now very frustrated.

* * *

The so-called Captian Jack Harness was getting on the Doctor's nerves. The Doctor couldn't understand why he seemed so interested in Rose when there were plenty of other beautiful single women present. The Doctor knew that three days of spending time together did not put he and Rose in any sort of defined relationship (other than friendship, for which he was very grateful), but it was clear they had come to the Yule Ball together. The only explanation he could come up with for Jack's behavior was that the man had a broader definition of "available," than he did. And if that was the case, the Doctor was going to have to do a better job of being the one that Rose preferred.

"Let's try again," the Doctor suggested, taking Rose back into his arms and trying to remember steps that he had once known. He used to dance before he started existing on autopilot. As he tried to recall the simple act of slow dancing, Rose did her best to talk him through the steps, and the Doctor knew that Rose was once again making him better. It was this happy thought that caused the Doctor to try and spin Rose. Unfortunately, it didn't go as well as he had hoped.

"Okay, try and spin me again," Rose encouraged him. Then she said in a slightly more teasing tone, "but this time don't get my arm up my back. No extra points for a half-nelson."

The Doctor's face fell. "I'm sure I used to know this stuff," he said. He walked a few paces away as the music ended, and the Doctor was certain that Captain Pretty-Boy had seen the whole mishap.

The deejay followed "Moonlight Serenade" with another Glen Miller song: "In the Mood." And as soon as the livelier song began to play, the Doctor began to remember dance steps he had been forced to learn for a ballroom dancing unit in school.

"Rose! I've just remembered!" he said, grinning from ear to ear as his spirits lifted.

"What?" she asked.

"I can dance!" he told her as he snapped his fingers and danced over to where she stood. "I can dance!" He took both her hands and lead her in the steps of the lively dance. Rose followed along flawlessly, smiling and laughing as she did. Then, when the Doctor was feeling confident, he spun her perfectly—twice. When Rose returned back to his arms they continued the steps but began to improvise, and neither one of them missed a beat. Then as the song came to a close, the Doctor dipped her. When Rose was once again upright in her arms, the Doctor couldn't help but shoot a look of triumph at Captain Jack Harkness, but his attention quickly returned to Rose.

"That was pretty spectacular, Doctor," she said, still holding on to him. "Seems you really _do_ have the moves."

The rest of the night passed with a mixture of dancing, talking, and resting at the tables as they sampled the desserts and champagne. The last song was called "The Christmas Waltz," and seemed the perfect way to end the evening. "This is amazing," Rose said to the Doctor as they glided and swooped around the room. "We are at a ball, I am in an elegant gown, and now we are actually dancing a waltz. It feels like a fairy tale."

"Except this is really happening," the Doctor said. But if he had to be honest, he was just as enchanted as she was. The song ended with the Doctor guiding Rose into a graceful dip. Then she stood up and gave him a hug before they gathered their things to leave.

"You lied," Rose told the Doctor once they had left the ballroom. The wonder in her voice, however, did not match the words of her accusation.

"In what way did I lie?" the Doctor asked, knowing full well that he was being set up.

"You said there would be no magic at the Yule Ball," she said, stopping to look at him. "But it _was_ magical. I had the best time of my life."

"Me too," the Doctor told her. Then he took her hand as they headed upstairs.

* * *

"I can't believe it's two in the morning," Rose told the Doctor after she had taken her mobile phone from her handbag in order to get to her key card. "I feel like I could've danced all night." She returned the phone then did a turn to illustrate her point, but she stumbled a little in the process.

"Still probably best to call it a night, Eliza Dolittle," the Doctor quipped.

"Yeah. I'm feeling a little dizzy," she admitted. "Probably a mixture of the champagne and all that dancing. She stumbled again, and the Doctor steadied her, pulling his arms closely around her as he did.

"I—I'm really lightheaded," Rose hadn't meant to say that aloud, because she wasn't sure if it was the result of the evening's activities or if it had to do with the fact that the Doctor was holding her even closer than they had been while dancing.

The Doctor placed a hand on her cheek. "I think you need a Doctor," he said through heavily lidded eyes.

"Oh yeah?" she said as her pulse quickened and her eyes drifted towards his lips. "And how often have you tried to use that line?"

"On and off since I was fourteen," he admitted, as he stroked her jaw with his thumb.

"Does it work?" she asked in a shaky breath.

"I'm about to find out," he said as he closed the space between them.

Rose felt the Doctor's lips touch hers. They lingered there as if in slow motion, not moving forward and not moving away. Then the Doctor's hand moved to the back of Rose's head and he leaned into the kiss. Rose responded in kind and three days worth of emotion overtook her.

Soon, however, Rose realized that the feeling in her head was not just euphoria, and she reluctantly pulled away. "That was…" she said as she tried to even her breathing. "I mean, it was really..." she said trying again to form a clear thought. "Thing is, I really am feeling dizzy and I really ought to get some sleep now."

Rose did not fully comprehend what the Doctor said in return. She was just aware that he helped her inside, started the zipper on the back of her dress, then stood outside her closed bedroom door to make sure she did not fall while she changed into her pyjamas. When she had unpinned her hair (she would brush in out in the morning) and was dressed for bed, she opened the door of her bedroom to bid him goodnight.

"Merry Christmas Doctor," she said, as she attempted to stifle a yawn.

"Merry Christmas, Rose," he said. He kissed her once softly then said. "Now go to bed."

Rose nodded and floated to her bed as she heard the Doctor's retreating footsteps and the door to her suite open and close. In seconds, she would be asleep, and she knew she would be reliving the day in her dreams.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So very sorry for the delay. But I have made up for it by having an extra long chapter. Part of the delay is because, though I said I would not do it, this chapter was research-heavy.

If you Google Val d'Isere Christmas you will get (among other things) a picture of a bunch of people in Santa suits on a chair lift. And an article I read mentions one family's experience with this on Christmas day. I do not think it is a "dress code" per se, but it must be some sort of tradition.

There really are giant Snow Sculptures in Val d'Isere. Two of the ones I mentioned were advertised to be shown this year. But they must have had similar ones in years past because I used a Google image search and found some nice photos that I used for inspirations for my descriptions. Where I took artistic license is that in Val, they are throughout the resort, not in one special area, but I thought it sounded more magical and was reminiscent of how canon Doctor and Rose visit amazing places.

One of the main lodging preferences for ski resorts like Val is a chalet. In a chalet you have your own room but community bathroom, living areas, and kitchen/dining room. Some rent for just a family, or a few families rent one together. In others, the people may be strangers. In some you make your own food but many others are catered. It gives one's holiday a very...domestic...feel.

I knew that I would blend _The Doctor Dances_ and the gathering in _End of the World_ since I had started this story, but the location came to me as I began to write this chapter. The Solar Ballroom, while fiction, is based on a real location. Years ago I went to a company Christmas party that took place on Catalina Island off the coast of Southern California. It is world famous and has been around for decades. It is called a casino in the classic sense of a gathering place and was used to host Big Band concerts/dances. It seemed like the perfect place to dance to Glen Miller. My descriptions of the interior are based somewhat on my memory of that wonderful event.

Jack, being such a dynamic character and a favorite of mine, was not going to be in this story because I was afraid he would steal the show and not be minor enough. But he was the perfect catalyst for jealousy and their dance conversation, so he got to be included. Basically, he charmed his way in. I am not as immune as Rose is, it seems.

Happy New Year everyone!

* * *

**Linda Who:** Thanks for the review. I like romance in stories because it doesn't have to be actually practical. (I just watched a Hallmark movie where a cowboy took a horse through New York to get to his love rather than just calling a cab.) And even the cheesiest of Christmas specials have some obstacle to overcome. Whether that is a childhood rivalry (seen that one more than once) or a tragedy that one has not quite gotten over. But it is a Christmas story, so things should end in magic eventually.


	8. Day 5: Friday Morning (Boxing Day)

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Day 5 – Boxing Day, Friday, 26 December**

Unlike Christmas morning, which had begun with music, Boxing Day for Rose began with the ring of a phone. Rose picked up her mobile, but it was silent. She stared at it for another sleepy second before a series of thoughts occurred to her. The first was that the electronic warbling sounded very much like the phones she used to answer at Henrik's. The second was that she had never used a "classic phone" ringtone on her mobile. The third was that the ringing sound was coming from the nightstand on her left. Her final thought was that the only way to stop the offending noise was to answer the phone that must have been sitting on that nightstand for her entire stay.

"Hello?" she said in a voice still heavy with sleep.

"Right. Seems I woke you up, then. Thought I waited long enough. Sorry 'bout that..."

It took Rose a moment to register that it was the Doctor on the other end. "You've got my phone number?" she asked in confusion.

"You think I can make business transactions all over the world and haven't figured out how to call the hotel room next door?" the Doctor asked.

Rose didn't answer, trying to formulate a response. The fact was she was so used to her mobile, that the hotel phone had completely escaped Rose's notice. And even if she had paid attention to its presence, it would never have occurred to her to call a neighboring room. Even in the rare instances that Rose had stayed in a hotel, it had only been she and her mother, so there had never been anyone else to call.

After a few second's silence, the Doctor spoke again. "Wanted to invite you to a room service brunch, but thought it might be better to call than knock."

Rose nodded, not registering until after she had done it that it was a wasted gesture.

"Like I said," the Doctor continued, "I waited to ring you, but if you need more sleep or don't want to join me…"

There was hesitation in the Doctor's voice, and Rose worried he had interpreted her sleepy silence as rejection. "What time is it," Rose asked as she willed herself to wake up fully.

"Half ten," the Doctor answered while she picked up her phone and tried to read the time with blurry eyes.

"Okay," Rose said. "I'm awake now and would love brunch. Just give me some time to get ready." The call concluded with Rose telling the Doctor her menu preferences so that he could order brunch and have it ready when she arrived.

Twenty minutes later, she knocked on his door. They exchanged the typical hellos and good mornings when the Doctor answered, but Rose detected the same uneasiness in him that was present during their phone conversation. Since this was Rose's last full day with him (a thought she instantly pushed to the back of her mind), she did not want it wasted on awkwardness and misunderstanding.

"Er," she said as she entered, feeling the exact awkwardness she was trying to avoid. "I hope you didn't misunderstand why I didn't say much on the phone. I was only not talking because I was still half asleep, not because I didn't want to see you."

Rose watched as a smile slowly spread across the Doctor's face, culminating in a bright toothy grin. "Good to know," he said as he gestured toward the small table in the salon where a tray of food awaited. "Was hoping I hadn't made you feel uneasy last night when…" The Doctor's voice trailed off, but Rose did not need him to finish the sentence to understand his concern

"Are you kidding?" she asked, sounding more enthusiastic than she had intended. She took a breath and did her best to tone down her response. "I almost can't remember a better Christmas," she told him. She took his hand and smiled in a way that she hoped was reassuring. "And it couldn't have ended more perfectly."

There was a moment when it felt like they were being drawn toward an encore of the kiss in question, but both she and the Doctor seemed to hesitate at the same time. And as they distracted themselves from the resulting awkwardness by sitting down to eat and talking about the food before them, Rose wondered at its cause. She could not pretend to know the Doctor's reasons, but she wondered if her own hesitation was due to the inevitable end of her holiday that now loomed like a cloud on the horizon. It was fun to play Cinderella, and she couldn't deny that she had fallen for a prince. Perhaps in his own way her prince, the Doctor, had fallen under a spell of his own. But midnight was looming and sleigh rides and elegant balls would soon turn back into public transport and the drudgery of job searching. They would both return to their very different lives, and there would be no glass slipper to symbolize that they belonged in each other's worlds.

"What are you thinking?" the Doctor asked.

Rose had no idea how long her mind had wandered, but the Doctor must have noticed it. She couldn't bring herself to tell the Doctor of her feelings for him or of the shadow of reality that had been cast over the remainder of their time together, but she also felt compelled to make sure that whatever she did tell him was honest. "Just realizing Christmas is over and that soon I will have to go back to looking for work," she told him. "I had no luck before this trip, and now I am going to have to start over at the bottom."

"Why?" the Doctor asked her. "You have marketable skills."

"Because I've only ever had one job, that's why," said Rose not doing very well at disguising the bitterness that she felt. "It's the same job that I had when I was still in school, and my promotions don't seem to make a difference to the places I've applied to."

"Did I mention that I was sorry for my part in your circumstance?" the Doctor asked. His look of apprehension had reappeared.

"Indirectly, yeah," she said, managing a smile. "But it's not your fault. I just worry that I'll either be unemployed for some time, or I'll work somewhere for far less than I did before."

She wasn't sure why, but Rose felt better having said that. And after she had, the rest of the meal seemed to be a mixture of an interview and job counseling. When brunch was concluded, things seemed a little less dark. There was still the inevitable goodbye, but at least she had more optimism about her job prospects.

After brunch, the Doctor and Rose moved to the sofa and the Doctor showed Rose the ideas for holiday recreation that he had jotted down at the beginning of his trip. By Rose's estimation he had enough ideas to keep him busy well into the new year.

"How long is your holiday?" Rose teased him as she scanned the list a second time. "Because I don't think you'll be able to do all of this."

"One week," he said. "Typical six night, seven day package. Still gives us two days to fit things in."

Rose let the list drop to her lap and she felt something sink in the pit of her stomach. "My stay is only five nights," she told him.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

It was foolish to be upset when Rose had known the length of her stay all along, but suddenly knowing she could have had one more day with the Doctor made that missing day feel like a terrible loss. There was nothing else that could be said, so she sighed and leaned against the Doctor. He responded by putting an arm around her and letting his head rest against hers, and they remained that way for several minutes.

Eventually the conversation resumed and they chose three activities to attempt that day, knowing that since it was past noon, they would likely accomplish only two. Then they left hand in hand to make the best use of the time they had left together.

* * *

"Right then, Rose Tyler, you tell me," the Doctor said as he selected items from the helicopter tour's custom flight itinerary. "Where do you want to go? Over the village, or above the mountain tops? Or we could do all of it, I suppose. It's your choice. What's it going to be?"

It did not surprise the Doctor that in the end they chose to see every location that the pilot was willing to take them over. But he was surprised by how amazed _he_ was by the experience. It was not his first helicopter flight, but somehow having Rose along to enjoy it, made it all the more thrilling.

"Fantastic!" he exclaimed into his headset microphone as they passed over an icy glacier then swooped downward for a better look. Then he looked over at Rose. "I told you this was a good idea."

"You think you're so impressive," she said in a teasing tone that could even be heard over the headset.

"I _am_ so impressive," he said pretending to be offended.

"You wish," she said. But her smile assured him that she was enjoying the experience.

One hour and several amazing views later, their tour had ended. The Doctor watched as Rose admired the photograph of the pair of them that they each had received, and a thought occurred to him. Unlike the sleigh ride, Rose had not protested when he had paid for the helicopter tour. Perhaps their conversation over brunch had helped her to see that their differences in social class meant nothing to him. While he had never lived on a council estate, he had grown up simply and had known the struggle to make ends meet. He was glad for the success he had achieved, but the foundation of his youth had also instilled in him the responsibility of using his good fortune for others. From the things Rose had told him in their conversations—things such as helping neighbors and standing up for her friends when they had been mistreated—she had the same type of heart and did those things without needing a large bank account to do it. And that mattered so much more than money.

If the Doctor was right, maybe Boxing Day didn't have to be their last full day together. He could pay for her to stay an extra night. After that he could find her a job in his company. He could even make her an apprentice buyer at Henrik's or any other store that Arcadia Associated owned while she finished her education. Then they wouldn't have to say goodbye.

Rose was still smiling as they left the site of the helicopter tour, telling the Doctor that it was one of the most exciting things she had ever done. He could change that. He could ask her to be his traveling companion on company trips (two rooms, not presuming anything) and he would make sure to take time out for recreation and seeing the sites. They could both start truly living instead of going through the motions.

"So walking trail, then?" Rose asked, interrupting the Doctor's thoughts.

"Suppose so," the Doctor answered. "Still think the dogsled would've been fun."

"It's a half-day program," Rose reminded him. "The second session started almost an hour ago."

"But is walking around the woods going to be exciting enough after a helicopter ride?" the Doctor asked. Despite his earlier thoughts, he found himself worrying that she had chosen the second activity simply because there was no cost involved.

"Not every moment has to be full of excitement," Rose told him. "And after the noise of the helicopter, I'll really appreciate the stillness of the forest."

The Doctor's mind was put at ease. And if a nature walk was what Rose Tyler wanted to do most, then that was his desire too. "All right then," he said. "Your wish is my command."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** An apology again for the delay. There is a long line to use the now only functioning computer in the chapter is a little short because I decided to split it in half at the last minute. But the good news is that the next chapter should be ready in hours, not days.


	9. Day 5: Friday Evening (Boxing Day)

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Day 5 – Boxing Day Evening, Friday, 26 December**

The appeal of a robust hike had been tempting to both Rose and the Doctor, but since it was late afternoon, they chose instead a trail with a low to moderate grade and a clearly marked walking path that would take just over an hour. The scenery was beautiful, with snow capped pine trees on either side of the trail and a blanket of white snow that covered everything on the ground but the well-travelled footpath. Despite the beauty that surrounded them, the Doctor commented that there could be wonders they were missing on a road less taken and quoted a poem by Robert Frost as part of his reasoning. Rose asked in jest if he had really studied business in university, or if it that had just been a cover while he trained to be a poet. This began a discussion of the Doctor's many interests, and it continued as they meandered along the wooded path. Rose learned that though the Doctor truly did get a degree in business, he had briefly considered a career in either astronomy or physics. However, he was well rounded in his interests and it was his love for literature and poetry that filled most of his solitary hours. In more upbeat and social moments, he enjoyed West End musicals, but he was also a fan of a few rock bands that had been popular when he was a teen.

"What about television or film?" Rose asked after they hit the halfway point and had sat on a log to rest. Rose had only a vague familiarity with the literature and musicals the Doctor had mentioned, and their difference in age meant that their tastes in bands growing up had been very different. So she was curious to see if they had any other interests in common.

"Science fiction if it's well done," the Doctor said in answer to her question. "I've always been fascinated with the concept of time travel."

"Me too!" said Rose happily. Then she mentioned some of her favorite films and programmes in that genre.

"Want to know a secret though?" the Doctor said. He looked from side to side dramatically as if he was making sure they would not be overheard. "I really like reality shows, especially the game shows. Used to watch _The Weakest Link_ all the time."

"That was a good one," Rose agreed. "Though Anne Robinson was a bit intimidating. If I was on that show I'd have been so nervous, the only way I'd have gotten far was if someone kept me around just to beat me at the end. I'd be better on _Who Wants to be a Millionaire_." Then she remembered who she was talking to and laughed. "Though I suppose _some_ of us don't even need to be on a show for that," she said as she nudged him. And Rose realized then that she no longer cared about their age or financial differences. She didn't even care that not all their interests lined up perfectly. The Doctor was a good person, and they got on well together. And that was what mattered most.

The Doctor had grinned at Rose's remark, but now his face was serious and questioning. It took a moment for Rose to comprehend that he was reacting to the pensive frown on her own face. "Something wrong?" he asked, brows still furrowed.

Rose's let out a breathy laugh. "The opposite actually," she said. And though the Doctor's face had relaxed some, she could tell he was still confused. As Rose searched for a way to explain her thoughts, her eyes locked on his and she leaned toward him without any conscious decision to do so.

"Rose," the Doctor said in a heady voice that beckoned her even closer.

"Doctor," she whispered. Her heart raced and she closed her eyes in anticipation of the kiss that was imminent. Perhaps she could communicate something through that action that she could not seem to put into words. But the slight change in their posture on the log caused an overall shift in the center of gravity and the log rolled forward. Both the Doctor and Rose were able to catch themselves before tumbling completely to the ground, but the moment was lost.

"You okay?" the Doctor asked as he helped lift her from the crouching position she had found herself in.

"Yeah fine," Rose said as she dusted herself off and mentally cursed the interfering piece of wood.

Fortunately. the mishap had not changed her comfort level with the Doctor, so she took his hand and they continued their walk, talking and laughing as they followed the trail back toward its starting point.

"So I guess that's what you call walking in a winter wonderland," Rose quipped as they concluded their trek.

The Doctor shook his head. "Not quite," he said. "Song says we have to build a snowman." He looked around at the wide space between the beginning of the trail and the edge of the village. "Not sure if it counts as a meadow, but…" he shrugged his shoulders.

"You just wanted to check another thing off that list of yours!" accused Rose, pointing a finger at him.

The Doctor had already formed a snowball the size of a cricket ball. "Doesn't mean you're not gonna jump in and help," he said confidently as he placed the snowball on the ground started rolling it along to increase its size.

Rose was slightly irked that the Doctor was right, but she was soon helping to construct a traditional snowman with base, torso, and head. When the initial construction was done, they found some sticks long enough to be the arms and used various sizes of rocks to form the facial features.

"He's a bit naked, isn't he?" Rose asked when they had finished.

The Doctor looked around, walked a short distance away and returned with a muddy scarf. "Saw something red sticking out of the snow," he said as he wrapped it around their creation.

"Nice. And it also might help the scarf owner find it now," commented Rose. She admired their finished creation with a smile. "Not worthy of Snow Sculpture Lane," she said, "but not bad either." She removed her gloves and took out her phone to take a picture. And after having taken one of just their creation, she realized that though she had used her mobile to capture some memories of her holiday (especially in Snow Sculpture Lane), other than the photograph that came with their helicopter ride, Rose did not have any pictures of the Doctor. She made him pose with the snowman, which he did grudgingly and without the grin she had gotten used to seeing. Then, at her request, he removed his own gloves and used her phone to take a picture of Rose next to it.

"Now that that's over, can we go eat?" the Doctor grumbled as he lifted his head to the darkening sky.

"Don't tell me you're one of those who hates his picture being taken," Rose said.

"I'm not," said the Doctor as they headed for the town. "Just don't like it when the real point of interest is a pile of snow."

"This is part of that 'too domestic' thing, isn't it?" she asked.

"No."

"Yes it is," she insisted. "You find yourself having good old fashioned fun, but then don't want to admit it."

The Doctor grumbled something unintelligible.

"Hah! I'm right!" Rose exclaimed in triumph.

"Maybe," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and quickening his pace.

Rose hurried after him, regretting that she had gotten too personal. "Doctor," she said, "I'm sorry. It's not my place to say anything. I didn't mean to upset you."

He stopped. "It's fine."

"No it's not," Rose said. "I barely know you. You don't owe me answers or explanations or…"

"But you _do_ know me," he said, "better than most." He looked back at the snowman, then turned around with a look that seemed even further away. "And you're right. 'S' not easy to just have fun…too many demons."

Rose was hit by the weight of the Doctor's words and did her best to be the strength he seemed to need. "Then we'll fight them together, yeah?" she said.

"Yeah," he said in a wavering voice. Then he reached forward and took her hand in his, intertwining his fingers with hers as he did. "I'm so glad I met you," he told her.

"Me too," she said.

They exchanged a smile then continued walking until they were in the village.

"So," the Doctor said as casually as he could after they had been walking down the pavement for a while, "let's find a place to take a proper picture together."

"Really?" Rose asked, and despite the outward drop in temperature that came as night fell, the brightness of her smile warmed the Doctor's heart.

"Really," he said, though he was as surprised as she was at his suggestion. Though the Doctor was not entirely comfortable with the idea, he had to admit it thrilled him to know that Rose had wanted his picture. He wasn't that much to look at, not like that captain from the night before, and even before tragedy had changed his life, he always looked stiff and uncomfortable in posed pictures. But he was glad that Rose would have the picture she had wanted, and it was nice to think that her smile would be with him wherever he went.

They strolled down the street hand in hand toward their hotel, looking for a good photo backdrop as they did. Finally, Rose pointed out a lamppost that had been wrapped in red and white garland like a candy cane. It was standing in front of a large snow-covered pine tree. Rose declared it a perfect location and asked a man whom they had heard speaking English to take their picture. He appeared to be in his mid thirties with a short-cropped blond beard and mustache. His smile seemed simultaneously friendly and mischievous.

The Doctor handed the man both he and Rose's mobiles. Then he stood next to Rose in front of the lamppost and smiled with as genuine of an expression as he could muster for a posed picture.

"No, no!" the man said, taking command of their impromptu portrait. "Let's try to look more natural, shall we?"

The Doctor was taken aback, but stepped slightly closer to Rose and put an arm around her waist. This also was not satisfactory to the stranger, who took over and positioned the pair himself. When he had finished, they were turned in slightly toward each other with arms around each other's waist and heads tilted toward the center. Rose's free arm was on her hip, and the hand of the Doctor's free arm was now tucked into his jeans.

"This is far more than I expected," Rose whispered to the Doctor as the man stepped back and looked at the scene through Rose's phone. "What is he? An out-of-work photographer?"

The Doctor laughed quietly at her statement, but held his pose.

"Ooh! I love it!" the bearded man said. "Now do it again!"

When the picture was captured with the second phone, the Doctor stepped forward to claim their property and thank the overzealous photographer.

"Not yet!" the man declared. "I made sure to get the mistletoe above you in the shot," he said, "but you should have at least one picture with a kiss."

The Doctor and Rose looked up at the same time. Sure enough, hanging from the cross-section of the lamppost was a bunch of mistletoe tied with a bright red bow. The Doctor felt his ears become warm. This was more than he had signed up for. He shook his head slightly and did his best to hide his hesitance from Rose.

"You're no fun," the man said, looking directly at the Doctor and picking up on his reluctance. "Get over your discomfort and take the picture for the lady's sake. I guarantee, she'll put it in a frame as soon as she gets home to print it."

The Doctor was on the verge of losing his temper. He was embarrassed at the idea, and was not happy taking commands from a meddling stranger. But if the man was right, and it would make Rose happy, he supposed he could do it. He took a deep breath and turned to face Rose. Her face was as red as he imagined his was. He shrugged, and she shrugged back.

"The way to do this is to fake the whole thing," the man said. "I'm the editor of a fashion magazine and I've been through enough photo shoots to verify this." The Doctor was still not fond of the blond man, but at least he now understood why he had taken over a simple request for a photo with such authority. "Just act naturally," the man told them, "and freeze as soon as you are in position."

The Doctor wanted to retort that "kissing" and "natural" were not things that went together for him, but he knew it was no use. He and Rose put their arms around each other in a comfortable stance, brought their faces together, and froze in place. When they heard the man call, "Perfect!" they started to giggle. The Doctor put his forehead against Rose's and whispered while still laughing. "I hope I never have to do that again."

"Me either," she whispered back.

The Doctor and Rose still had their arms around each other when the magazine editor walked over to them and to give back their phones. They both murmured a thank you and the Doctor took the phones without completely letting go. Neither one of them turned to watch the man leave; they were too busy looking into each other eyes.

"So should we try that for real this time?" Rose asked.

"Definitely," the Doctor said. And before he had time to change his mind, his mouth had found hers. Her lips were warm and sweet, and the Doctor felt as if they had been destined to be paired with his. Nothing was more perfect than kissing Rose Tyler and being kissed by her in return. Gone was the uncertainty he had felt the night before. It had been replaced with the joy and thrill of finding someone he hadn't even known he had been searching for, and the hope that she might possibly feel the same.

The Doctor could have gone on kissing Rose forever, but he had not forgotten where they were. People expected brief displays of affection when mistletoe was present, but they still did not approve of a snog that was too passionate or lasted too long. The Doctor would not allow Rose or himself to be the subject of ridicule, so he traded passion for sweetness. He pulled back just far enough to look in her eyes, smile, then placed a chaste kiss on her forehead.

The rest of the evening progressed in a haze for the Doctor. There was dinner and a lingering dessert, stargazing until they could no longer tolerate the cold, warming up by the lobby fire, then watching a film (what it was, the Doctor barely noticed) in the salon of his suite. The only thing the Doctor clearly remembered was that from the moment he kissed Rose under the mistletoe, there was little physical distance between them. They held hands. She leaned her head against his. He guided her upstairs with a hand on the small of her back. They sat close together on the sofa. They snogged.

Part of him had desired to do more, and there were signs that her thoughts had matched his, but he would not ruin what could come of things by moving too fast. She was leaving in the morning, and there were many things he had wanted to discuss first. But conversation of any depth had been neglected in their desire to be close. It was late, and as they sat wrapped in each other's arms slumber attempted to overtake them both.

Soon Rose's head rested heavy against his chest, and the Doctor knew she had fallen asleep. He slipped out from under her and stood gazing at her. His first thought was to let her lie on the sofa and cover her with one of the provided throw blankets, but he feared she would wake up in discomfort. So he did what seemed the kindest. Like he had done two nights before, he pulled her to a sleepy stand, guided her to the bedroom (his this time), pulled back the duvet on bed, and helped her to settle on the mattress before covering her. Then he took the second pillow, left the bedroom, and closed the door behind him. The Doctor would never have dared to share a bed with Rose without her consent (even in the most honorable of circumstances), but knowing that she was just on the other side of the door filled him with a peace and contentment that only her presence could bring.

**Author's Notes:** So I had really assumed I could finish this chapter in just a few hours after I posted the other one. But the queue to use the family computer got longer and the needs of real life took over during my wait. The next chapter will not be as full of warm fuzzy feelings as this one, as departure draws nigh. But I promise that I will stay true to the romance genre I have found myself in if you stick with me.

In case you missed it, the blond bearded guy is none other than the Editor in "The Long Game". I included him especially for TiaKisu because I remember how sad she was that I abbreviated his appearance in one of my other stories. Of course this Editor is a bit less sinister, but I can still picture Simon Pegg in these scenes.

**Linda Who:** Thanks for your reviews. This story was supposed to be less detailed and a quicker write. But apparently old habits are hard to break and I have a style. (As Time Goes By was supposed to be a short story too!) But I am glad you like it.

**Guest:** Making people grin when they read makes me grin too!


	10. Day 6: Saturday

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Day 6 – Saturday, 27 December**

The Doctor had been up for three hours by the time Rose Tyler had risen and joined him on the sofa in the salon. But it wasn't because he hadn't tried to wake her that it was close to nine by the time she emerged from his temporary bedroom with mussed hair, blurry eyes, and a sleepy smile, accepting graciously the coffee and croissant that he had waiting for her.

Shortly after he had awoken at six, the Doctor had knocked on the bedroom door to alert Rose that he was about to enter. Then he opened the door slowly to find that his knocking had been a wasted action. Rose was still in a deep sleep. He nudged her gently, speaking her name until she uttered a sleepy response. After asking the time of her flight home and receiving a mumbled answer that sounded something like "afternoon," he asked her okay to obtain his clothes and use his bathroom to shower and dress for the day. She hummed an affirmative, "Hmm hmm," then pulled the duvet back over her head.

Once the Doctor was ready for his day, he sat on the sofa in the stillness of the morning reflecting on the time he had spent with Rose and wondering where their roads would lead next. His well-traveled path after meeting someone was to go back to a life of business and solitude without making an effort to remain in contact. But even before tragedy had struck his life, he had never known anyone outside his family that could touch his soul the way Rose could. He wondered if, like the poem he had quoted the day before, he should take a less-traveled route and tell Rose his ideas on how they could stay together. If he did, she might agree, but the day could also end with a parting of the ways. If her choice ended up being the latter, the Doctor had to at least make sure he set Rose up with the ability to have a fantastic life. As much as she had done to help him, he owed her that much. he opened up his laptop and began to work.

"Thanks for letting me sleep in your bed," Rose said once she had joined him on the couch and had taken a few sips of coffee.

"Seemed nicer than waking you up just to kick you out," the Doctor joked.

"What I meant is that you could've left me on the couch," she said with a laugh.

"No I couldn't," the Doctor said. "Too much of a gentleman, me."

"That's what I mean," Rose said, "You don't find gentlemen very often these days…so thanks." Rose finished her breakfast in silence then set her mug on the coffee table with a sigh. "I better get back to my own suite now and pack," she said. "Can't be late for my flight."

"When do you leave?" the Doctor asked ignoring the sudden tightening in his chest.

"The flight's at four fifty-five," she told him. "I need to leave here right after lunch to allow time for the drive."

As Rose stood to leave, the Doctor stood as well. He opened his mouth to deliver the carefully prepared speech he had rehearsed all morning, but was cut off by Rose.

"Don't go sayin' goodbye just yet," she said. "First I need to pack. Then I'm gonna need some help carrying my stuff downstairs 'cos I have more than I left with. And _then_ we'll have lunch together before I leave, yeah?"

The Doctor snapped his mouth shut and nodded.

"Right," said Rose. "I won't be long. See you later." Her smile was bright as she walked out of his suite with a little wave, and the Doctor wondered if she was avoiding thinking about their farewell the way he was, or if she was less affected by the reality of their separation.

As the Doctor waited for Rose, he started pacing and eventually began packing his own things for his departure the next day to keep his mind focused on something productive. Therefore, he was more than a little relieved when he heard a knock on the door an hour later, and had to hide the eagerness he felt when he answered it and looked upon Rose's face once again.

"So I need a bit of help," Rose said as she walked in. "First," she said handing him a jewelry box containing the choker and earrings she had worn on Christmas night, "I'll need you to return these for me. They're under your name anyway." The Doctor took the box and put them in the safe in the room. "Second," Rose continued, "I don't know how you managed to get it in the room, but that potted Christmas tree that belongs in hallway has to be heavier than I am."

"It took a while," he admitted with a grin. The Doctor followed Rose back to her suite, and together they returned the tree to its intended location. Then the Doctor called a bellhop to retrieve Rose's bags and leave them at the registration desk until her departure.

"Got enough stuff?" the Doctor asked Rose after he had carried her suitcases out to the hallway.

"I only came with the one rolling case and a travel bag for the aeroplane," she said. "Now I'm leaving with a full ski outfit and evening gown I didn't have before. 'S just a good thing I packed another bag inside my suitcase."

After the bellhop had left with her suitcases, Rose walked through her suite once more to ensure she had left nothing behind. "It looks so empty now without the decorations," she said to the Doctor as she walked through the bedroom. "I couldn't save the paper chains, but I packed everything else. I just hope they won't get too smashed in my bag."

The Doctor followed Rose to the exit and stood silently as she took one last look. "Ready?" he asked after she closed the door behind them.

"Ready," she answered solemnly.

The Doctor took her hand and they headed to the lifts, and all too soon, Rose Tyler was officially checked out. The Doctor had not intervened. Something in the timing or the setting had kept him from speaking up. So as he accompanied Rose through the hotel gift shops and she chose souvenirs for her friends and family, he looked for another opportunity to ask her to stay.

There was none. Or else he was fearful of her reply. Therefore their lunch in _Restaraunt Nébuleuse_ felt like a prisoner's last meal to him. As they ate, Rose talked about her New Year's Eve plans, which would be a repeat of celebrations from years past, but the countdown in the Doctor's head did not usher in a new calendar. It kept track of the precious minutes remaining until he and Rose said their final farewells.

* * *

The taxi pulled up in front of the _Hotel Galaxie_ prompty at one o'clock, and the Doctor watched as the bellhop loaded Rose's belongings inside. The pair continued the small talk as long as they could until the driver signaled that they needed to leave.

"I had a wonderful holiday because of you," Rose said, giving the Doctor a hug. "Thank you."

"I could say the same," the Doctor said as he returned her embrace.

"Right then," Rose said with a sniff as she pulled away from the Doctor. "I'll be off."

"Unless…" ventured the Doctor.

"Unless?" Rose repeated back with a look of confusion on her face.

"Unless...I don't know," the Doctor said trying to sound more nonchalant than he felt. "You could stay another day and fly back with me, free of charge."

A ghost of a smile flashed on Rose's face and it encouraged the Doctor to continue.

"What do you think?" he asked trying to sell his idea. "You could go back home and fill your days looking for work. _Or_ I could get you a job at Arcadia, and then we could go anywhere."

Though Rose's mouth was still formed in a smile, it did not match the emotion in her eyes. "Yeah, I can't," she said. "I got to come back for my mum. Someone needs to make sure she doesn't overdo it on New Year's Eve. And I couldn't take a job that was just handed to me."

The Doctor nodded. As much as he had hoped for something more, he had prepared for that response. He reached in his pocket, pulled out a small blue metallic stick, and handed it to Rose. "This is for you," he said.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Flash drive," he said. "Took everything you told me about your work history and turned it into a resume. Even included a sample cover letter. You're gonna have to add in details—names and specific dates, but it should highlight your talents better than just your job title and its description."

"But I…"

"It's still all you," the Doctor said. "Most people get help with resumes."

"Thank you." Rose said with a whisper.

"Welcome." He looked in her hazel-brown eyes and suggested one last thing that might mean their goodbye would not have to be permanent. "We could exchange numbers," the Doctor said. "When you find work, we could get dinner to celebrate."

"I could," Rose said. "But holidays aren't real life, are they? We could make it work for a while, yeah, but our different lives would eventually get in the way." Rose's eyes were glossy with tears though none had escaped.

"Okay," the Doctor said in an even tone. He did his best to keep his expression neutral and hide the disappointment and sadness he felt. "See you around."

"Doctor," Rose said with a wavering voice. "Maybe it's not never. Maybe we can come here next Christmas and see where our lives are then."

It wasn't much, but it was something to hold onto. "Next year then," he said, stepping back and allowing her to leave.

"Next year," she repeated with a nod. But instead of turning toward the taxi cab, she stepped closer to him, pulled his head down to her level, and kissed him. Unlike the other kisses they had shared, this one was full of pain, but he gave into it anyway, wishing he could have stayed there forever.

"I'll miss you," Rose whispered as she stepped back and looked one last time into his eyes. The Doctor knew he would be unable to say anything without betraying the emotions within, so he simply nodded and watched as Rose Tyler stepped into the cab and rolled out of his life.

* * *

It didn't matter to Rose that she was being driven three-and-a-half hours from Val d'Isere to the airport in Turin by someone she had just met; as soon as the Doctor was no longer in sight, she let fall the tears that she had been holding back since the moment she joined the Doctor on the couch that morning. What the Doctor had not known, however, was that Rose had been awake in his bedroom for at least a half hour before doing a much poorer job of hiding her sadness. She had wanted to believe that they had something that would transcend their social class and age differences. To believe otherwise just meant accepting eventual heartache. But she worried that trying to artificially sustain a holiday romance would only prolong and magnify the pain that would happen when their hearts were inevitably broken. So she had done her best to dry her eyes and act cheerful for her last moments with the most wonderful man she had ever met.

Now that she was in the car and feeling the distance between them growing, she began to question her decision. Would she look back, glad that she had not prolonged her pain, or would it be the biggest regret of her life? It was an answer that she felt would only come with more time and distance.

But even in her misery, Rose did not regret one moment of her holiday. She wouldn't have missed it for the world. She knew she didn't have to accept her life for what it always had been. She put her hand in her pocket and turned the flash drive within around and around in her fingers. And as she did, she dared to dream of a better life.

Including the stopover, it took Rose another four hours before she finally landed at Heathrow. Most of her time in flight, she had felt a sense of dethatched emptiness as if feeling real emotions were too much of a bother. So when her mother met her at the airport and asked her how her flight had been, Rose's response had been, "Boring."

Jackie Tyler, assuming this was the natural let down after an enjoyable holiday and that Rose was tired because of the late hour and almost full day in transit, did not push for more information. Rose was thankful for this. However, she did use the excuse of their extended separation to tightly hug her mother, hoping her mother's embrace still had the power to make everything better like it had when she had been a child. It helped but it wasn't enough.

Rose was equally disappointed by her homecoming. The flat was still decorated for Christmas with presents waiting for her under the tree, but all it did was remind her of homemade snowflakes and a stocking full of gift shop items. And when Rose entered her room, all the problems she had set aside for the week came flooding back. Deciding she had dealt with enough for one day, Rose slipped into her pyjamas, turned off the light, and buried herself under her duvet. Then she let the residual tears fall as she fell asleep, praying that things would seem better in the morning.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But we all knew this day had to come eventually, right? The good news is that the story is far from over and this is as bad as it gets. So while the next day may not be instant sunshine and rainbows, at least you know it won't get any worse.

Is it any wonder, though, that this chapter took longer to post? I was sick for almost three days, but it's not like I had the prospect of a happy chapter to motivate me to get better sooner!

Also, we are now at the point of the story where the song inspiration has more or less come to an end. I recommend you go to Metro Lyrics or a similar site and search for "A Christmas to Remember" by Dolly Parton. You will find that, other than changing the location of the song from Tahoe to Val d'Isere, I have included all the major points in the lyrics. And the song does end with the lovers excitedly waiting to do it all again in a year. But you will have to wait and see how things pan out for the Doctor and Rose.

* * *

**Linda Who:** I'm glad you enjoy the details. I like details too (obviously), but it would be fun to write a concise short story too. Thanks for reminding me that the deadline is my own. I will try to apologize less! At the same time, I try to keep my word. And one reason for the quick turnaround is to get this story done before Christmas is completely forgotten with some holiday like Valentine's day or something! But I appreciate that people are willing to wait.

As far as that original novel, tell any muse looking for a job that I have an opening.

* * *

**Guest:** I am glad you like it. I do my best to please. (Well this chapter not so much, but bear with me. :) )


	11. Home, Day 1: Sunday

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Home, Day 1: Sunday, 28 December**

"Time to get up sweetheart!" the cheery voice of Jackie Tyler called from the doorway of Rose's bedroom. "We've got Christmas to celebrate."

Rose groaned and pulled the duvet over her head.

"Fine," her mother said with a sigh. "Have a lie in a bit longer if you want. But there's a pile of things for you to open. And I ordered the wrong sized catered dinner from the market so there's plenty of leftovers. We could even have some people over and make it seem more like a celebration." When Rose didn't answer, Jackie added, "Though it might be your breakfast if you sleep any longer."

Rose peeked out from under her downy cover just enough to see the alarm clock on her nightstand. It didn't surprise her that it was close to eleven. Rose had pretended not to hear her mother's chipper voice calling first from the kitchen, then the hallway, and finally her bedroom with what seemed like hour long intervals in between. She didn't know if her mother thought she was exhausted from the trip or just deserving of one last day of relaxation, but Rose was thankful that she had not pushed her to get up. Rose knew that her mother had missed her and would be anxious to start their belated Christmas celebration, so she had used the time in her blanket fortress to try to push the events of the past week to the back of her mind and prepare to be the excited and gracious daughter that her mother was expecting her to be.

"M'kay, I'm up," Rose said reluctantly as she rolled from her side to her back and pulled down the duvet. Then she thought about what her mother had said and sat up suddenly. "Mum," she said, "_what_ people?"

"What do you mean?" Jackie asked as she crossed the room and opened the curtains, causing Rose to squint at the sudden increase of light.

"You said something about people coming over," Rose said. "Who did you mean?"

"I don't know," Jackie answered. "Not family. You made that clear enough before you left. Maybe Debbie and Beth since they weren't here on Christmas or Boxing Day. You can ask Keisha and Shareen if you like. And Mickey's off Sundays if—"

"Not Mickey," Rose said firmly. She swung her legs around so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed facing her mother, continuing to squint because her eyes had not yet adjusted to the daylight. "I made _that_ clear too."

"Well you don't need to be making a face about it," Jackie said. "He doesn't have to come. But sooner or later you've got to stop avoiding him."

"I'm making a face because the sun is in my eyes," Rose explained in exasperation. "And I'm not avoiding him. I didn't even avoid him after we broke up. But seeing him on New Year's is soon enough." Rose stood and straightened the duvet on her bed. "I just need a break. You know how clingy he can be."

"He's been that way since he was a kid," Jackie agreed. "Maybe the time apart was good for him too."

"Maybe," Rose answered back.

Jackie patted Rose's shoulder. "I'll go make you a cuppa and some toast while you get dressed," she said, then she walked out and closed the door.

Rose was left wondering if one week of separation from Mickey was enough to change a lifelong precedence. Mickey Smith should have been a perfectly acceptable boyfriend. He was nice enough, good looking, and had a steady job as a mechanic. He had a sharp mind and could have been a computer programmer if had had been able to afford university. But he could be immature in stressful situations, acting like an idiot who needed direction when Rose knew he could be better than that. And when he wasn't at work or watching the latest football match at the pub, he was wherever Rose was—no matter what the status of their relationship was at the time.

Mickey had always been part of Rose's life, and she knew he always would be. Mickey's mother had abandoned the Smith family when he was young and his father couldn't cope with being a single parent. So Mickey was raised by his grandmother. Jackie helped the older woman by watching him after school. It had been five years since Mickey's grandmother had died, and now the Tylers were all he had. So Rose tried to be understanding of his tendency to be a bit needy. But no amount of understanding made being in a romantic relationship with Mickey Smith a good idea.

Rose froze as her mind turned to a different Smith. John Smith—the Doctor—had also lost his family. Like Mickey, he had not left Rose's side almost her entire holiday. Did Rose somehow attract men who had lost their families? Was she merely the Wendy for a Peter Pan who was looking for a mother figure? Her relationship with Mickey seemed to support that theory. They had played together as children, and though Mickey was actually a few years older than Rose, she had somehow grown up and taken the lead. She handled the responsibility, and he handled the fun.

Could the same be said about Rose's interaction with the Doctor? Rose scrutinized the memories of her holiday. It was true that the Doctor had shown his temper or shut down when he had been reminded of his loss, and that Rose had somehow helped the Doctor face it, but he hadn't seemed dependant on her. Instead, it seemed her presence had unlocked his own capability to heal. But it wasn't just Rose who had done the supporting. The Doctor had taken the lead plenty of times, and even rescued her in the process. The Doctor might have benefited from Rose's support and understanding, but she in turn had benefited from his encouragement, and it had helped her remain confident about her future and her abilities.

The more Rose compared the two Smiths, the more assured she was that they were very different. Despite sharing a similar age and background with Mickey, something had always seemed uneven. But though outwardly the Doctor and Rose lead very different lives, she had come to feel that they were equals.

Rose wasn't sure why this mattered. She had made her decision to stop her relationship with the Doctor at the end of the trip not because their personalities were incompatible, but because their lifestyles were.

"A bird could love a fish," her mother had once told her, paraphrasing some old musical film. (The Doctor probably knew which one it was.) "But where would their home be?" She had said it as a warning against trying to marry out of one's station. Jackie had made the comment when she had overheard Rose's friend Shareen joking about marrying an actor. "The real world is no romance film," Jackie had said. "Even if a girl gets a bloke like that to notice her, it never lasts. Eventually he gets tired of how she looks or whatever and dumps her back on the street. 'Cept now everyone hates her because she thinks she's better than them."

"Why couldn't an actor actually love a normal girl?" Rose had challenged her.

"Maybe he could," Jackie said. "But love isn't enough. Everyone talks about Romeo and Juliette, and how love beat everything, but they got themselves killed, didn't they? If people are too different, it won't work."

Rose hadn't thought she was all that different than people with more money. She had done personal shopping for people whose handbags cost at least as much as her monthly salary, and most of them were wonderful people. Some even shared Rose's interests. But this observation was lost on her mother.

"That store's giving you airs and graces," she told Rose one day. "You think you're like them because they're nice to you. But you're just the help to them."

Rose didn't agree with her mother's point of view. She still believed that it was possible to have dreams beyond one's current condition. At the same time, she knew her mother had just been being pragmatic. Most people never left the estate, and her mother had just wanted to protect Rose from having her dreams shattered and her heart broken.

That was why it didn't matter how well Rose and the Doctor had gotten along. She was a fish, limited by her world of water. He was a bird who belonged in a world in which the sky was the limit. Their paths had crossed but they didn't belong in each other's worlds. He had offered her a way into that world, but if she had accepted it without earning it, it could just as easily be taken back. She had to achieve her own success so she could stand on her feet when everything inevitably ended in heartache.

Rose got dressed then started unpacking. She first emptied her small rucksack travel bag then focused on her rolling suitcase. She dumped the clothing into a laundry basket in the corner of the room, put her shoes at the bottom of her wardrobe, and removed the small bag of toiletries to put away later. When she was done, what remained were the decorations that she had awoken to see on Christmas morning.

Rose stared at a piece of the makeshift wrapping paper on which her name had been written by the Doctor's hand. Then she took out the paper wreath that, along with the magazine-made tree, had miraculously survived the journey with just minimal damage. She set them on her bed. Last, she carefully picked up the stack of snowflakes and placed them on her nightstand. She lifted the top one from the pile following the intricate pattern with her eyes. It was the one which the Doctor had turned in his hand when he had told her about his sister, Susan's, tradition. A deep feeling of regret suddenly and instantly overtook Rose. She had walked away from someone who had faced his own pain and worked hours on a project just to make her Christmas morning magical. Two amazing days later, he had wanted her to stay, but she declined his offer. If Rose had said goodbye in order to prevent her heart from breaking, why did it feel like that was exactly what was happening?

* * *

"Good Morning, Doctor Smith," said Clive, the concierge of the Justicia Towers in Chelsea, London. "I was told you would be away until late this evening."

"Plans changed," the Doctor said. "Got home sometime after midnight."

"Well, at any rate, welcome back," Clive said.

The Doctor was about to say "thank you" and move on, as was his habit, but something within made him pause a moment longer. Clive had been the daytime concierge since he had moved into the luxury apartment building, but the Doctor's conversations with him never went beyond the polite exchanges initiated by Clive. For some reason, the Doctor felt it was time he changed that.

"Did you have a good Christmas?" the Doctor asked, feeling somewhat uncomfortable doing so.

Clive's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Er, um…yes, I did," he said with a stammer. It was likely all he would have said, but the Doctor stood waiting for him to continue. "We had dinner at my in-law's house. Pretty routine. My son got nothing but video games, but I can't really blame him. I'm into computers as well. My wife, Caroline, gave me a gift card so I can upgrade the one I have now. It'll really help me improve my blog."

"What's your blog about?" the Doctor heard himself asking. He was fairly certain he didn't care, but the words had escaped from his mouth before he could stop them.

"Overlooked news incidents," Clive replied.

The Doctor was confused by the reply, but this time he _really_ didn't care. He prepared to leave, but his confusion must have shown because Clive elaborated.

"Conspiracy theories," explained the concierge. "For instance, there is evidence that one of the skyscrapers in Canary Wharf is being used to track extra-terrestrial activity on earth."

"Right…" said the Doctor, taking a step toward the door and trying to determine how to politely end the conversation.

"That's okay," said Clive. "Even my kid thinks I'm nutters for my theories."

The Doctor had no idea how to reply to that.

"So…how was your holiday?" Clive asked.

The Doctor was glad for the change of subject until it occurred to him what he had been asked. He had just reached his limit for friendly interaction. "Fine," the Doctor replied. "Went skiing." His eyes darted to the door and back to Clive. "Right. Well, busy day…"

"Have a good day, sir," Clive said, back in concierge mode.

The Doctor nodded and walked to the exit as rapidly as he could without appearing rude. Once he was outside, however, he stopped. He had no plans.

He should have still been in Val d'Isere, possibly having brunch followed by one last stroll down Main Street before he headed to the airport. But when Rose had rejected all his offers to continue their relationship (whatever it had been), he had no desire to stay. He had returned to his suite with no idea what to do next. He sat down on the sofa as memoires flooded his mind. Their first fight started on that sofa. She helped him buy a gift on that sofa, showing how absolutely fantastic she was. He held her close and she fell asleep in his arms on that sofa. It was too much. The Doctor stood up and finished the packing he had started that morning. Then he booked the soonest flight to London that he could get, and left.

His entire trip home and half the night, the Doctor reviewed what he had said before Rose had left, wondering if there was any way things could have gone differently. He had at least hoped she would have wanted to stay in touch, but that hadn't been the case. At first he chastised himself for allowing himself to get close to her. Losing Rose was the worst pain he had experienced since his family was taken from him. But eventually he decided he wouldn't have undone any of it. While it was true that pain was the risk one took when letting people into one's life, he couldn't deny that life was better when it was shared with others. And for the first time in a long time, he was willing to let people in.

The Doctor looked back at the doors of the Justicia Towers and he couldn't help but laugh. It might have been a good idea to get to know those he interacted with daily, but maybe he knew Clive as well as he needed to. There was nothing wrong with keeping _some_ of his interactions at a purely professional level.

The Doctor stood on the pavement for several minutes trying to formulate a plan for his day. He was only used to downtime in the evenings. He had to do something to keep his mind from straying back onto the topic of Rose Tyler. Eventually he decided on a plan of action much like the one he had come up with for his holiday: until he returned to work the next day, he would keep himself too distracted to think. The Doctor knew exactly where to go to accomplish that. He turned left and circled around the building (rather than cross the lobby and risk having to talk to Clive again) and headed toward the car park. He was going to spend his day at the cinema.

* * *

Rose spent the morning opening gifts and watching as her mother opened the gifts she had gotten for her. Everything was fine until her mother opened the item Rose had selected from the Val d'Isere gift shop. It was just a souvenir coffee mug filled with sweets, but it brought back memories of her last hour with the Doctor. Rose excused herself to her room claiming to be tired (though she was fairly certain her mother didn't believe that) and promised to emerge when guests arrived. Then she dropped onto her bed as the tears began to fall.

At dinner Rose did her best to enjoy the belated Christmas celebration. Rose listened her mother's two friends share how their Christmases had gone, and by the time it was Rose's turn to share, she was ready. She told them about the skiing, sights, and dining but omitted the Doctor's involvement. She also left out stories of the sleigh ride, the ball, or how her evenings had ended. When the group asked to see pictures, she guarded her phone carefully, scrolling through the photos as they gathered around her. She stopped before reaching the picture of the Doctor with the snowman and quickly put the phone back in her pocket before it could be apprehended by anyone who wanted a second look.

"I can't believe you went on a helicopter tour!" Rose's friend Keisha said after the five women had moved to the salon to enjoy mulled wine and leftover mince pies.

"Yeah, I would have loved to do that," agreed Shareen. "Next holiday I'm coming with you!"

"Those tours are rather dear, ain't they?" asked Jackie's friend Beth. "I knew a coworker that did one of those in Switzerland and it cost her more than two hundred pounds. How could you afford it?"

"She used her holiday pay," Jackie said in a tone of disapproval. "If it weren't enough that she spent it on a holiday rather than keep it for expenses, she spent money like it was endless."

"I did not!" snapped Rose. "The room was upgraded for free, and my meals were complimentary. And I didn't pay for the helicopter tour, someone else did!"

Five sets of eyes instantly focused their attention on her. After concealing most of the details of her trip, all it took was her mother's accusations to make her break. "What I mean," she said slowly, giving her mind time to catch up, "is that the tour was provided for."

"You showed me your trip folder," Jackie said. "There wasn't no helicopter tour listed."

"It was added after I got there," Rose said wishing Jackie would let the matter go. But her mother's scrutinizing stare made her feel as if she were a child who had been caught sneaking sweets from the pantry.

"You're lying," Jackie said. "You've been hiding something since you got off the plane. Now how did you pay for that tour?"

Rose knew that the whole story would eventually come out, but this was not the how she wanted to share it. "Someone else paid for it," Rose said, rapidly formulating her answer as she went. "Remember I told you I met the bloke in the room next to me? Well it turns out he works for Arcadia Associated. I told him about my job when he asked why I was on holiday. And even though it wasn't his fault, he felt bad. Anyway, he was able to get Arcadia pay for the tour. Sort of an apology, I guess," Rose said, stretching the truth. Her mother didn't seem fully convinced, but before Jackie could say more, Rose's mobile chimed.

Rose took her phone out of her pocket and rolled her eyes. "It's a text from Mickey," she said, swiping the screen to receive it.

_Welcome, home, Babe,_ the message read. Then the phone chimed again. Mickey had sent a picture of himself with an arm around a woman that Rose recognized.

"Isn't that Tricia Delaney?" Rose asked, showing the picture to her friends.

"Rob Delaney's sister?" asked Shareen looking closer. "Yeah, that's her!"

"What's he doin' sendin' a picture of her?" Rose wondered aloud.

"Oh!" piped up Keisha. "I forgot. I saw Mickey today and he said something about going out with her."

"She's a bit big," Rose said feeling irritated.

"What does that matter?" demanded Jackie's friend, Debbie. Rose had almost forgotten the older women were still in the room. Debbie was not a small woman.

"Nothing," Rose said. "Just the two of them are never gonna happen. She's not his type. When it comes to women, Mickey's rather…shallow."

"Yeah, every girl he's dated between your break-ups have been young, pretty, and _blond_," said Keisha "His type is 'Rose Tyler.'"

Rose shot her an incredulous look.

"It's true," Shareen agreed. "Think about it: He calls you 'babe,' in a text but then send a picture of him with another girl. He's trying to make you jealous."

"Well, it's not gonna work," Rose said as she set her phone on the coffee table. "I'm taking a long break from men. And," she joked as she stood up, "I am taking a quick break from you lot. Got to use the loo."

Rose had not been gone long, but when she returned. Shareen was holding her phone and she and Keisha were looking at it, whispering.

"Give me that!" she demanded, making no attempt to be polite.

"You got another text," Shareen explained. "I was looking to see if it was Mickey."

"Fine," Rose said, feeling relieved "What'd he say this time?"

"It wasn't him," Shareen answered. "Just some advert from the mobile company…Who's the bloke?"

"What are you talking about?" Rose asked trying to sound nonchalant.

"It switched to pictures," Shareen said as she handed the phone to Rose. The screen was open to the photo of the Doctor standing next to the snowman. "Who's the bloke?" Shareen asked again.

"Just the man I mentioned earlier," Rose told her. "No big deal." She hoped her tone matched her words.

"Let me see this no big deal," Jackie said. She got up from her chair and walked over to Rose, who reluctantly handed her mother the phone.

"Well the ears are a bit much," Jackie said, "but if he had been that close to my bedroom…well, anything could have happened."

"Mum!" Rose exclaimed, horrified.

"What?" asked Jackie. "Just cause I'm a Mum doesn't mean I have to act like a nun."

Jackie's friends nodded their heads and hummed in agreement.

"But…just…no!" Rose sputtered unable to put her repulsion into words.

Jackie wasn't paying attention. "How do you make it bigger?" she was asking as she repeatedly swiped her finger on the screen. Then she stopped and her eyes grew larger. "ROSE MARION TYLER!"

Rose didn't have to look to know what had happened. Instead of enlarging the picture, Jackie had advanced the pictures. And only one photo could have elicited Jackie's angry response.

"You care to explain?" Jackie asked in a voice that sounded both calm and irritated.

"Not really," Rose said with a hint of defiance. "It's just a picture."

"Who is he?" demanded Jackie showing Rose the picture of she and the Doctor posed under the mistletoe.

"I told you," Rose said. "Just a friend I met at the hotel."

"That's no sort of answer!" Jackie shouted. "Last night and this morning you act like you've been through some tragedy but tell me you're fine. Then you don't mention anyone but some couple from Cardiff until you're forced to explain the helicopter trip. Now you tell me he's a just friend, but you take a picture like _this? _It's just one lie after another!"

Rose cringed at Jackie's display of anger and watched as their guests began to gather their coats and let themselves out with mumbles of goodbye and timid waves. Rose's friends shot her a sympathetic look and gestured for her to call them.

"The picture was posed," Rose said after everyone had left. "There's nothing more to tell you."

"I just don't believe you," Jackie said. "Why won't you tell me the truth?"

Rose sat back down and crossed her arms in front of her. She wanted to shout that she was a full grown woman and that Jackie did not have the right to treat her like a child just because she lived at home. But Rose didn't feel like fighting. "Fine," Rose told her. "He's called the Doctor. We were sort of…er…companions for the week."

"When you say companions, did you the two of you…" Jackie trailed off, letting Rose fill in the blanks.

"No!" Rose exclaimed. Her mother should have known her better than to think she would take things to that level with someone she had just met.

"Then what was it?" Jackie asked. "Because you come home with some big secret, and the next thing I know there's a picture of you kissing some strange man!"

"A few minutes ago you were talking like you had similar ideas," retorted Rose. "What makes it so bad if it's me?"

"Because he looks old enough to be your father!"

"Not unless he'd been a teenager," mumbled Rose.

How old is he then?" demanded Jackie. "Forty? Forty-five? Did he try to impress you by telling you he was a doctor?"

"He _is_ a doctor," insisted Rose.

"Yeah?" said Jackie. "Well it's a good thing he's not here. I'd give him something to stitch up!" Then she pantomimed a slap to explain her intentions.

Rose had had enough. It was hard enough to deal with the regret of letting the Doctor go without also having to then defend him to her mother. "I'm going to bed before this conversation gets even more mental," she said. Then she went to her room and closed the door behind her.

* * *

The Doctor learned many important lessons by sitting in the cinema all day. The first was that people are suspicious of those that go to the cinema alone—especially after the third film. Second, eating cinema food for lunch, dinner and snacks will leave one feeling sick. Third, it is easy to become fidgety when sitting down all day long. Most importantly, even films that take great concentration cannot completely drown out unwanted thoughts.

Four films and almost nine hours later, the Doctor's mind was still filled with thoughts of Rose. What was worse was that he was more aware of how alone he was than he had ever been before. He knew he had to respect Rose's wishes and go on without her in his life (though he held out hope for next year), but he had to change the way he lived his life. The closest thing he had to a friend (besides Rose) was Barbara. He would see her the next day at work. Perhaps she could give him some pointers on how to live life more deliberately and make authentic connections. But he worried that even that would not be enough to make up for the loss he felt by not having Rose in his life.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I know we are not at happily ever after yet, but there should be little glimmers of hope if you look carefully.

The good news is that my laptop is still under warranty and has been sent to the manufacturers. Also, in a few days I will have a loaner computer to use till it is returned. And that means faster turn around time on subsequent chapters. Hooray!

The quote about the fish and the bird comes from _Fiddler on the Roof_ originally but was also quoted in _Ever After, _which is appropriately a retelling of the Cinderella story.


	12. Home, Day 2: Monday Morning

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Home, Day 2 (Morning): Monday, 29 December**

"Welcome back, John," Barbara said when she walked into the Doctor's office at nine o'clock. The Doctor, needing something to focus on, had been there since seven. "You actually managed to stay away for the entire week. I'm impressed."

"Not that difficult considering the company closed down two days after I left," commented the Doctor without looking up from the Auton Distributing contract he was reviewing.

"You have a valid point," said Barbara in a tone that made it sound as if they were having a discussion of great intellectual importance. "But the real question is: Did you actually stay on holiday for a full week?

"Almost," the Doctor said, glancing up at Barbara. "Came home a day early."

"Why is that?" Barbara asked.

"Didn't have a reason to stay," the Doctor said, returning his attention to the contract to ignore the unwanted memories that arose instantly at his words.

Barbara stood for a few seconds in front of the Doctor's desk as if waiting for the right response. "Then it looks like Lynda wins the pool," she said finally.

The Doctor lifted his head up, and he set down the papers he was holding. "What pool?"

"You rarely take time off, so most people thought you'd be back that afternoon or by morning the next day," said Barbara. "When you weren't, a pool was started to predict how long you'd last."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. He was half amused at the wager and half offended that the office considered him a workaholic. He had only worked so much because there had been nothing else with which to fill his time. "Which Linda won?" he asked.

"Linda with a _Y_," Barbara answered. "Linda with an _I_ started her holiday before you left."

"Lynda _Moss_, the intern with the little pony tails said I wouldn't finish my holiday?" marveled the Doctor. "But she's so sweet!"

"Sweet enough that she only entered the pool because Crosbie and Strood talked her into it," Barbara said. "And I think she was being as optimistic as she could. She's very loyal to you, you know."

The Doctor nodded. Lynda was the best intern he'd had in a long time. Her enthusiasm was infectious and she was one of the few people at Arcadia Associated that could make the Doctor smile. In a different circumstance, she could have been a person he'd consider getting to know as a friend. But Lynda was young (though now that the Doctor thought about it, not much younger than Rose) and the Doctor had a sneaking suspicion that she fancied him. While he could not fathom why this might be, he did not want to mislead the girl. Therefore the Doctor knew his relationship with Lynda was best kept purely professional.

The Doctor handed the signed contract on his desk over to Barbara. Though his mind had wandered, part of him had heard her ask if he was finished looking it over, and if she could take it to be filed. And that part of him responded as it should have. But while this occurred, his thought process had remained devoted to exploring the unfamiliar territory of building friendships.

"I forgot to ask," the Doctor asked just as Barbara made a motion to leave the office. "How was your Christmas?"

Barbara looked as surprised at the Doctor's question as Clive the concierge had looked the day before. Once she gained her composure, she told the Doctor some of the more interesting details of her holiday. She also thanked him for the handbag he had given her. "That was very kind of you," Barbara said, "and completely unexpected. How did you manage to select such a perfect gift? Ian, my fiancé, only accomplished that with the use of a list."

"A friend helped me," the Doctor said, doing his best to not show the pain it caused him. Time would make things easier, he mentally assured himself, but so would making more friends. "Barbara," he ventured, letting his façade slip and his insecurity show. "How do you make friends?"

"How do _I _make friends, or how do you?" she asked as her intuitive nature came into play.

"The latter," the Doctor said.

Barbara walked back toward the desk and sat in a chair facing the Doctor. "Can I ask what brought this on?"

"Need to change things," the Doctor said. "Very long story." He picked up the pen on his desk and rolled it between his thumb and forefingers, watching it as he formulated his thoughts. "Are _we_ friends?" he finally asked.

"We're friendly," his Chief Operations Officer replied with a shrug. "We _could _be friends."

"How?" the Doctor said. He hadn't meant to say it aloud. He knew the answer. He had had friends once. Friendship meant being genuinely concerned about the goings on of another, sharing a certain amount of vulnerability, and being a support to that person. The thought terrified him.

"This is a good start," Barbara said with a kind smile.

"And how would one make other friends?" the Doctor asked. He looked at Barbara for a moment then turned his attention back to the pen. "If one so desired."

"Take an interest in those around you," she said. "Which you seem to be attempting." Barbara was still, and her eyes looked upward in thought. "What about connecting with some friends from the past?" she asked.

The Doctor's blood felt as if it had just run cold. He had overburdened several of his friends in the early stages of his grief and shut out others. He shook his head in answer to Barbara's suggestion. "Not sure I would know how to go about it," he admitted. "Doesn't matter anyway. Lost contact with them."

"Try Facebook," Barbara said. "It's fairly non-threatening."

The Doctor looked across the table at his co-worker and saw genuine care in her eyes. "Thank you," he said.

"Of course, John," she answered.

"Doctor."

"What?" Barbara asked as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Call me Doctor," he said.

"As in Doctor Smith?" she asked, sounding slightly offended. "But I've always called you John. Everyone does. And given our conversation…" Barbara took a deep breath then continued, "If I've in any way overstepped..."

The Doctor shook his head as he grinned. "Doctor is my middle name," he told her. The Doctor chuckled lightly when her bewilderment turned to dubious surprise. "Honest. When we're less busy, I'll tell you the story," he promised. "What you need to know for now is that it's what my friends call me."

Barbara smiled. "Well _Doctor_," she said. "I have to meet with the tech department regarding our compatibility with Auton's system, but if you're free, would you like to join me and Ian for lunch?"

_If he was free._ The Doctor knew Barbara had said that for his benefit. Nothing pressing was going to happen business-wise before the year's end, and it was not as if he had a busy social calendar. "That would be nice," he said, glad that his day was already shaping up to be better than the one before.

* * *

After Rose had retreated to her room the night before, she had put away the contents of her second piece of luggage. Her ski suit (including the accessories gifted to her by the Doctor) she had hung in the middle of her wardrobe where it would be accessible on colder days. The ball gown, however, she took a final long look at before covering it with a coat she seldom wore and sandwiching it between two other items at the very edge of the wardrobe. Rose was not up to explaining where it had come from, nor did she want to have to defend the Doctor's honor when her mother once again jumped to ridiculous conclusions.

One she had fallen asleep, Rose was plagued with a series of dreams involving the Doctor. In one, she entered the _Hotel Galaxie_ Solar Ballroom to a trumpet fanfare and the vocalized awe of the crowd. Her gown looked much like the one she had worn in real life, yet fuller and more ornate. She joined the Doctor, who was wearing an outfit befitting royalty. He bowed, then whisked her around the dance floor. But suddenly a clock struck twelve and her outfit had become a maid's uniform, so she was banished from the hall and sent to clean the very suite she had stayed in.

In another dream, the Doctor had a pair of wings that allowed him to soar in the sky. He offered an identical pair to Rose and invited her to fly away with him, but she told him she preferred to stay on the ground, only to regret it as he flew away.

In her last dream, she was walking through the streets of London, checking one skyscraper after another for the Doctor. But no one had any idea who he was, and at each she was told not to return unless she held a job at that location.

At five in the morning, Rose woke and decided not to subject herself to another dream. It wouldn't have been necessary if she had. Their meaning had been clear: she regretted her decision to cut contact with the Doctor. The dreams also illustrated how out of place she felt in the world of the well-to-do. What she wished to point out to her subconscious is that no amount of regret could change reality. Therefore it was no good to dwell on what had been done or the impossibility of the situation. All she could do at that point was to move forward. She had to prove to herself that she had the power to make her life better. So starting at that moment, that was what she was going to do.

Rose found the coat she had sloughed onto the floor when she had returned from Val d'Isere. Inside the pocket was the flash drive that the Doctor had given her. She turned it over in her hand a few times before donning her dressing gown and putting the drive in her pocket. She went to the kitchen and made herself some tea. Then she took her cup with her into the guest bedroom which contained the desktop computer. She turned on the computer and inserted the flash drive to see what it contained.

As the Doctor had said, the drive contained files for a resume and a cover letter. There was also another file entitled "Notes." Rose selected the resume first. It was beautifully formatted with information the Doctor had gleaned from Rose's talk about her work. Rose was amazed at how well he had paid attention. The details made it sound as if she had dictated it to him. But more amazing was the way he had taken tasks that she considered menial or not worth mentioning and presented them in a light that showed their importance. He also included a section of bullet points itemizing Rose's particular skills. Some of those had been on the resume Rose had been using, but some of the other talents were ones the Doctor had seen that she had not recognized in herself. Rose had seen examples of over-inflated resumes online, but that was not what she was reading. Every word she read was true and had just been phrased in a way that highlighted her contributions to the retail fashion world.

In the areas that the Doctor did not have information, he had added notes in bold to help Rose notice them in order to add what was needed. Some notes were as simple as "ADDRESS HERE" and "DATE STARTED," but others made her laugh. "GOT THIS PART FROM A JOB DESCRIPTION ONLINE. COULD BE RUBBISH. CHANGE AS NEEDED." But as Rose continued to read the resume, she found that very little of it was rubbish. In just fifteen minutes, Rose had a resume that she really believed would make her desirable to employers.

After Rose had saved the changes to the resume, she went back to the folder and selected the cover letter. Like the resume, it was mostly complete with spaces for Rose to fill in the company name and the job title she for which she was applying. She would have to alter those each time, but it was as easy as adding a word or two. Rose wished she had some way to thank the Doctor for his work on her behalf.

Finally, Rose clicked the file labeled "Notes" and surveyed its contents. There was a list of five companies, their web addresses, and the positions they had open as of Saturday morning. As helpful as the Doctor must have thought the list to be, Rose felt disappointed. All of the job openings were for positions that her employers had told her she had not been qualified to do. Still, Rose read over the list of companies and decided she would go to their websites and check to see if they had openings for positions that she was better suited for.

Below the list of companies was a list of interview tips much like ones Rose had read in other locations, but with special notations from the Doctor. As she read them, she could hear his voice in her head, and it made her smile.

The last thing on the page appeared to be a small letter. Rose took a sip of tea and began to read it. Just as with the notes above, she could hear the Doctor's voice as clearly as if he had been in the room with her.

_Rose,_

_Listen, this is important. If you are reading this message it means I gave you these files as you left Val d'Isere, and we must have ended our holiday together. And that's okay. Hope you have good memories. I do. You made me better. Now you can do the same for yourself. But I promised myself I'd help you with that, and that's what I'm doing. Even as you are now back home._

_By now you have read the above notes, and I bet you're fussing over the job opportunities I listed. You're probably thinking you couldn't possibly be considered for them. Typical. But hear me out. You can do so much more than you've given yourself credit for. You've just let doubts get in the way._

_So this is what you should do. Just take a chance. If you can see yourself as I have, no one can take that away. Apply for the jobs above. One or more of them will be eager to have you. And over the years, your dreams will be realized._

_If we decided not to remain in contact, know that I will remember you. And if you want to remember me, then you can do one thing. That's all, one thing. Have a good life. Do that for me, Rose. Have a fantastic life._

_John – The Doctor_

Rose wiped away the tears that had begun to fall from her eyes, sniffing as a few still managed to escape. Yes, she would remember him. And she would be confident in her abilities for his sake. And maybe he would come back to Val d'Isere in a year and she could tell him how much he had helped her. She had to believe he would be there, because the thought of her never seeing him again was too difficult to bear.

Rose gained her composure and got to work. She looked up the companies the Doctor had listed and started the application process. After two hours, Rose had applied for three out of the five jobs. Now the effects of rising at an early hour, the emotion caused by the Doctor's letter, and the work involved in applying had made her tired. She rose from the desk chair and stepped few feet over to the single bed. As she crawled under the duvet, she felt more hope than she had felt in a long time. In fact, she felt more optimistic about her future than she had felt even when she had assumed her job was secure and that she would slowly but steadily working her way up in the company. She had the Doctor to thank, but she was also able to see that what he had done was call attention to her own strengths and give her an extra dose of confidence. Rose had a feeling that she would always regret parting ways with the Doctor. But she would treasure the memories she had and never forget his help in giving her a future worth looking forward to.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I finally got another chapter up. This week has been busy in the real world and most of this sat done for days before I could return to it.

As my outline stands I have only a few chapters left. I have not veered from the outline but I have split some chapters in half (like this one) if I feel they are getting too long. So that is the only way it will be longer than four chapters. I hope to have at least the conclusion of this day done by the end of the weekend.


	13. Home, Day 2: Monday Afternoon

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Home, Day 2 (Afternoon): Monday, 29 December**

It was after ten when Rose woke up for the second time and made her way into the living room. She felt her stomach churn when she saw her mother on the sofa. Jackie was watching a home renovation programme that Rose knew her mother would have no problem turning off in order to resume the conversation Rose had ended the night before by retreating to her room. But avoiding confrontation would only make matters worse, so she sunk into the chair by the window and waited for her mother to speak first.

After what seemed like forever, but was likely just a few minutes, Jackie put the sound on mute. "Do you understand my concern at all?" Jackie asked, turning to look at her daughter. Her tone was softer than it had been the night before.

"I do, but—"

"One brief explanation when you first came home," Jackie said. "Just a heads up so I wouldn't have been so shocked…" All the anger had been replaced with some other emotion. Rose didn't know specifically what her mother was feeling, but the sadness in her voice was evident.

"I'm sorry. I really am," Rose said. Her tear-filled eyes met her mother's and she hoped her sincerity was evident.

"Do you know what worries me, is that you still can't say," Jackie said. "What happened, Rose? What can be so bad that you can't tell me, sweetheart?"

Now Rose understood. Rose had never kept secrets from her mother. Even when they didn't see eye to eye or she knew her mother wouldn't approve, Rose had always been open with her. "I was going to," she said. "I really was. I just needed time."

"Okay," said Jackie with a sigh. "When you're ready to talk, I'm ready to listen."

That was all Rose needed to hear. She moved over to the sofa and switched off the television. Then starting from the moment the Doctor said "run" and concluding with the note she had read earlier that morning, she told her mother everything. When Rose finished, she was emotionally spent from recounting her tale, but she felt lighter from having shared it.

"Listen to me," Jackie said. "God knows I wanted to hate that man—making moves on someone fifteen years younger." She brushed the hair from her daughter's face. "But right now, I respect him, and do you know why? Because he did the right thing. He honored your decision. He let you go."

"But what do I do every day, Mum?" Rose asked as fresh tears began to fall. "What do I do? Get a job? Then what? Get up, catch the bus, go to work, come back home, eat chips, and go to bed?" She wiped her eyes with the side of her shirt and sniffed. "Is that it?"

"It's what the rest of us do, sweetheart." She took a tissue from the box on the coffee table and handed it to Rose.

"But I can't," said Rose in voice barely above a whisper.

"Why?" asked Jackie. "That Doctor of yours might have a fancy car and a bigger home, but in the end he's doin' the same thing."

"Maybe it's like that when we're apart," Rose said. She stuffed the used tissue in her dressing gown pocket. "But together it was different. It was a better life. And I don't mean being on holiday and helicopter tours and Yule Balls and things. That don't matter. The Doctor gave me a reason for living my life. I had someone to share it with, someone who really understood me. I can't just go on and pretend it didn't mean anything, I just can't!"

"But you can't spend the rest of your life thinking about the Doctor, neither," Jackie said. "It's not healthy."

"But how do I forget him?"

"You've got to start living your own life, don't you? Get that dream job." Jackie sighed before continuing. "I'm sorry Rose. I never meant to hold you back. If anyone can reach their goals and have a proper life, it's you." She patted Rose's knee. "And I know it doesn't feel like it, but one day you'll meet someone new, and the Doctor will be no more than a holiday infatuation."

"I don't know if that's true though," Rose said, shaking her head. "Not this time. I just—I wish I could go back in time and change my answer. I wish I could have a second chance." Rose felt like there was more she wanted to say, but she couldn't find the words, so she sighed and let her mother hug her.

Rose returned to the computer after she had dressed and had a light breakfast. Then she applied for the last two jobs. Once Rose was finished with her applications, she caught up with the statuses and messages her friends had left online. After only one week without checking into any social media site, it seemed they had feared she had somehow left the planet. After assuring everyone that she was alive and well, Rose posted the photos from her holiday, leaving out the ones that included the Doctor.

For lunch, Rose decided to take a walk to the local fish and chips shop and remind herself of the simple pleasures of her normal life. But when Rose entered, she saw a young black man at the counter that she knew all too well. Rose would have turned around and left, but her empty stomach urged her to do otherwise. So she stood in the queue behind him, waiting until he inevitably noticed.

It happened after he had paid and, Styrofoam container in hand, turned to find a table. "Rose!" Mickey Smith said, surprised.

"Hi Mickey," Rose said trying to sound as if he was any other friend and not her ex-boyfriend. She had hoped to have a day or two more without seeing him, but she wasn't going to purposely ignore him.

"Getting lunch then?" he asked.

"Yeah," Rose answered, refraining from sarcastically remarking that he had stated the obvious.

"You can join me when you get your food," Mickey said. "I mean, if you want to."

"Okay, yeah," Rose agreed, somewhat reluctantly

A few minutes later, Rose found the table Mickey was at and sat across from him. They said nothing at first, but finally Rose thought she would go mad from the silence. "It's gone up market, this place," Rose remarked in an attempt at conversation. "They're doing little tubs of coleslaw now. Mum doesn't like it. She says it tastes sort of clinical."

Mickey nodded. "Have you tried that new pizza place down Minto Road?" he asked her.

But Rose was not fully listening. A man wearing a black leather jacket had entered the shop. It only took a split second to realize that the man with grey hair and a beard was not the Doctor. And she knew it wouldn't be likely for him to be in her part of the city anyway, but it had caused her mind to wander nonetheless. "What's it selling?" Rose asked Mickey.

"Pizza," Mickey asked with no sarcasm evident in his tone.

"That's nice. Do they deliver?"

"Yeah."

She and Mickey continued to speak about food, weather, and other safe topics of conversation, therefore it was not unpleasant, but Rose was getting tired of the small talk. "I'm not really hungry," she said out loud. Somewhere in the same city, the Doctor would be eating his own lunch. And if she had not been so quick to reject his offer, she could have been eating with him instead of eating chips with her ex-boyfriend. But there was nothing she could do about it now.

"Saw the pictures of your ski holiday online," Mickey said after a minute or two of silence. "Seems you had a good laugh."

"Yeah it was fun," Rose agreed.

Mickey kept his eyes on Rose and it began to make her uncomfortable. "What?" she demanded.

Mickey eyes lowered to his meal. "Wondered if you were going to tell me yourself, is all."

Rose furrowed her brow in confusion. "You knew I was going on holiday a week before I left."

"That's not what I mean," Mickey said. "We sit here this whole time and not once do you mention your new boyfriend."

"What?" Rose exclaimed. "What are you talking about?" Mickey obviously knew something, but it was best not to over speak.

"Keisha left a comment under your snowman picture," Mickey answered. "Something about you not posting the photos with your new bloke."

"Figures," grumbled Rose. She liked Keisha, but the woman had no idea how to keep her mouth shut.

"So when were you going to tell me?" Mickey asked as he began to frown.

"There's nothing to tell," Rose said. "There was a bloke I did a few things with. That's all." Rose caught another glimpse of the man in the leather jacket and felt a familiar pain. She knew she was lying, and so would Mickey. "Besides, I don't owe you an explanation," she added. "You and me are not together."

"Fine," Mickey said spearing his last chip with fork.

Rose sighed. Like it or not, Mickey had been like family before she had made the mistake (more than once) of being in a relationship with him. She needed to be a bit kinder. "We were both on that helicopter tour you saw pictures of. Afterward we built a snowman and took some pictures together," she said honestly but vaguely.

"I'm going out with Trisha Delaney," Mickey said abruptly.

"Right," said Rose, recalling the picture he had sent. She knew he was trying to get a reaction out of her, just like he had done the night before, but she was not going to give him the satisfaction. "That's nice. Trisha from the shop, right?"

Mickey nodded.

Rose smiled as brightly as she could without overdoing it. "Well, good for you," she said. "She's nice."

Mickey's face fell when she did not react as he had hoped. Rose threw her napkin and plastic fork in her container and tried not to look too smug.

"So, tell us more about this helicopter ride, then," Mickey said.

"That was it, really," she said. She was sure Mickey had suspected there was more to the story, but if she divulged any more she would not be able to hide her heartbreak and regret.

"So, what do are you doin' now?" Mickey asked as he stood.

"No plans," Rose said and she also stood up. She was back on the unemployment roundabout: apply for jobs, check email for responses, call places back, wait, and do the same thing again the next day. But she had just started over, so she would not check for replies or call any of the companies until a day had passed.

"We could go to the cinema," suggested Mickey. Then he added more quietly, "Sit in the back in the back like we used to…"

"What would Trisha Delaney say?" Rose asked, irritated. She couldn't believe he was suggesting they go to the cinema and snog like teenagers right after he had told her he was seeing someone.

"Suppose," Mickey said, as if the thought had not occurred to him.

Rose left the shop and started walking toward the estate. "You don't even like Trisha Delaney!" she exclaimed she continued her brisk walk.

"Oh, is that right?" Mickey asked, catching up with her. "What the hell do you know?"

Rose stopped and pivoted to face him. "I know _you_, and I know her," she said. "Who do you think you're kidding? First the pictures last night then telling me the pair of you are goin' out soon as you think I have a new bloke. This is all about me, isn't it?"

Mickey didn't say anything, but as far as Rose was concerned, the look on his face was clear evidence that she was correct in her assumption.

"There we are, then," she said. "It's got nothing to do with Trisha. And that's not fair to her."

"You left me!" he shouted. A few passersby stopped and looked in their direction, which made Rose self-conscious, but Mickey didn't seem to notice. "We were nice. We were happy! And then what? You say you want something better and make me feel like nothing, Rose. I was nothing." He shook his head, then clenched and unclenched his fists. "I can't even go out with a stupid girl from a shop because even when we're apart you pick up the phone and I comes running."

Rose said nothing. She knew Mickey was right. They had been friends first, therefore it had been easy to fall back into dating him. Their breakups had long stopped feeling permanent. That was one of the reasons she had been trying to avoid interacting with him this time. She knew it was over, she just had to get him to understand that.

"I mean, is that what I am, Rose?" asked Mickey. He had lowered his voice, but he was still clearly upset. "standby? The one you run to when the new bloke doesn't work out?"

Rose was tempted to tell him that if she wanted rebound, she would have sought Mickey out the moment she had returned home. Instead, she just listened.

"Am I just supposed to sit here for the rest of my life, waiting for you?" Mickey asked her. Rose tried to respond, or at least shake her head, but Mickey continued before she could. "Because I will."

Rose was stunned. It was not the response she had been expecting. "I'm sorry," she said. She was about to say more but her phone rang. She gave Mickey a look of apology as she took the phone from her pocket and looked at the display.

"Oh, go on then, answer it!" spat Mickey "It's him, isn't it? It's the new bloke!"

The number on Rose's mobile was local, but not one she recognized. There was no chance it was the Doctor, but her curiosity compelled her to find out who it was. So she pushed the button to answer it and mouthed "Sorry," to Mickey as she did.

"Should have known it was always going to be someone else," she heard Mickey mutter. "It was never gonna be me." Then he turned and headed away from the estates.

Rose shook her head sadly, but answered the phone with a bright, "Rose Tyler."

"Ms. Tyler?" a woman's voice said. "Harriet Jones, HR for Flydale Fashions. Are you familiar with our company"

"Yes," Rose said as hope started to grow within her. "I know who you are." Not only was Flydale Fashions the first one listed in the notes the Doctor had given her, it was also one of the most popular clothing stores for teens and students.

"Well," Harriet Jones said in a no-nonsense voice, "as you may know, Flydale Fashions has grown exponentially over the past year. That means we have many openings to fill, and we'd like fill them that as soon as possible. We've looked over your resume and it seems you might be a good fit for our company. I'd like to schedule an interview with you, if you're interested."

"Oh, I'm definitely interested!" Rose said excitedly. Then she worried that she seemed over enthusiastic

"Wonderful," said Jones. "I'd like to schedule an interview for tomorrow afternoon. Are you available at three?"

"Let me check," Rose said, reigning in her excitement this time. She counted to ten then spoke again. "Looks like my schedule's clear."

Rose got the location of the appointment from Harriet Jones then concluded the call. As she walked home, there was a spring in her step. If she had been just a bit younger, she might have started skipping. It had been hard seeing Mickey and confronting the mistakes of her past, but it seemed that chapter was finally truly over. And, if she got the job with Flydale, it would be the beginning of a new one.

* * *

Lunch had been more pleasant than the Doctor had expected. Since Barbara's fiancé, Ian, was a teacher on Christmas break and the Doctor and Barbara had no pressing matters at the company, the three lingered over their meal. The Doctor discovered that Barbara and Ian were great company. Barbara had a love for history while Ian (like the Doctor) had an interest in science. He taught the subject at a secondary school in Shoreditch. And it seemed all three shared a love for travel. Barbara suggested that the Doctor take more holidays that were not connected to Arcadia business, and she and Ian suggested a few places that the Doctor should consider on his next holiday.

Ian and Barbara also helped the Doctor set up a Facebook account. Ian downloaded the app on the Doctor's mobile. And when the Doctor had signed up and entered some basic information, Ian showed him how to navigate it. Barbara then took a profile picture with the Doctor's phone. They actually had to take several, because the Doctor either looked goofy or like he was grimacing. They finally settled on one with the Doctor's arms crossed and a smug, closed-mouth smile on his face. The Doctor tried not to be offended when Barbara said to Ian that it was "very him."

Eventually the Doctor and Barbara said goodbye to Ian and returned to the office, but only after the Doctor promised to come a dinner with the couple at Ian's home a few weeks into January. The strange thing was that the Doctor was actually looking forward to it. He did not even feel discomfort that he would be a single person in the company of a couple. At least he hadn't until that thought had crossed his mind. Now he was imagining Rose in the mix, talking and laughing with his new friends. She would love them, he was sure.

The Doctor switched on his computer and attempted to work, but there was little to keep his attention from wandering back to the vision of pink and yellow that had instantly captured his heart. Why had he let her get away? Why hadn't he told Rose how much wanted—needed—her in his life?

Distracting himself with new friends had helped the first half of his day go well. Perhaps seeking out old friends would do the same for the afternoon. The Doctor logged onto his new Facebook account and stared at the screen. He had no idea where to begin. Did people about to turn forty even use the site?

He took a deep breath and typed the first name that came to mind into the search bar. It was no surprise to the Doctor that only one profile showed up. Just as the doctor had been given a unique middle name, his childhood friend had a unique first name: Koschei. He was named for a villain in Slavic folklore, and like his namesake, the young Koschei Masters had spent most of his childhood causing trouble. For some reason, whether it was the commonality of having an unusual name or because they had once stood up to the school bully together, the two had formed an unlikely friendship. But as they grew the Doctor and his friend chose different paths, and the Doctor often times did not approve of Koschei's means of success. It always seemed to be at the expense of someone else.

Koschei's profile picture showed a confident man smartly dressed in an expensive suit. His occupation listed him as mayor of the town just south of their hometown of Gallifrey. A few side searches called up a long list of questionable practices and a few arrests in which charges were mysteriously dropped.

The Doctor shook his head. Just as some relationships were best kept professional, some friendships were best kept in the past.

The Doctor moved on. Harry Sullivan had joined the Navy. The Doctor read what little he could on his public page, then sent a request to be friends. It was a strange way to handle friendships, and the Doctor was more than a little leery of the artificial nature of the process, but at least he could keep in touch with someone he had once been close to. He just had to wait for confirmation.

The Doctor looked up other names. Melanie Bush had become a computer programmer and the mother of two. Jamie McCrimmon was now going by James and was a bagpiper. Sarah Jane Smith was an investigative reporter in South Croyden. He sent friendship requests to all of them and hoped for the best.

The Doctor spent the rest of the afternoon recalling the names of old friends and acquaintances and looking them up. Most of them he sent requests to. Before he knew it, the traditional work day was coming to a close. He was about to log off Facebook and go home he was reminded of one last person, one final connection to his past: Romana Trelundar, Susan's best friend. If he made contact with her, it would mean bringing up more memories of his sister that had been buried for years. The Doctor didn't know if that was good or bad. It would bring pain, but perhaps it would bring healing as well. If Rose had been with him, he would have found the strength to look her up, but he had to do this on his own. The Doctor closed his eyes and typed the name. He pushed enter before he had time to change his mind.

But when the Doctor opened his eyes there was no Romana Tredundar to select. It was not that she wasn't listed—for all he knew she had been—it is that Romana's name had not been entered in the search bar, Rose Tyler's had. And before him four Rose Tylers were listed. Even with the small pictures that accompanied the name, it was hard to miss that one of them was blond and standing next to a snowman he had helped to build.

As if she were going to flee if he did not select her name, the Doctor held his breath and selected the correct Rose Tyler, only exhaling once her profile page appeared.

It was her. He knew that from the picture, and her profile information (such as having her employment location listed as Herick's) confirmed it. It also said she lived in Peckham, London, which caused a revelation for the Doctor. He now knew what portion of London she lived in, _and _she had already told him that she lived in the Powell Estates. He could find her! The Doctor imagined himself as the Prime Minister in Love Actually going door to door until he found the right one. The problems was that Rose didn't want to be found.

He could ask. He could request her as a friend. He could just send her a message. His cursor hovered first over the "Add Friend" button, and then over the "Message" button. He couldn't do it.

He spent some time scrolling through her pictures. She had most of her settings fairly private, so only profile pictures and a few others tagged by friends showed up. He smiled at her changing image over the years. But in all of them he could see that teasing twinkle in her eye. He missed that.

The Doctor looked over the list of friends he had requested. He was feeling optimistic that most of them would respond positively. But even if they all did, there would still be something missing.

His heart had been opened. He had laughed with his new friends at lunch, and cried over the memories brought up by seeing the images of his old friends. And both feelings— the good and bad— made him feel more alive than he had in a decade. But it didn't matter. What use were emotions if he could not have the woman he loved?

The Doctor wouldn't do so through informal social media, but he was going to find Rose Tyler and tell her what she meant to him, even if he had to do it in the middle off the street. He had no definite address, and no plan, but he was determined.

"Rose," he said to the image on the screen. "I'll see you again soon."

* * *

**Author's Notes**: Guess what? I have a laptop! That means I should get this story wrapped up pretty soon. The end is in sight! Don't forget, you can always check my profile every Sunday for updates.

Not much to say about this chapter. But there are a lot's of "Easter Eggs" from the show in this one for those who are looking for those things.

* * *

**Linda Who**: Good chapters make you want to turn the page! (Or in this case, click ahead.) I hope this chapter has the same effect as the last.


	14. Home, Day 3: Tuesday

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Home, Day 3 (Afternoon): Tuesday, 30 December**

"And I was thinking of hiring a flying dragon to eat employees who use the copy machine for personal use."

"Sounds good," the Doctor said to Barbara without looking away from his computer. "Wait—what?" he said after her words finally registered.

Barbara laughed. "You were off in some other dimension," she said from her side of the desk. "I was trying to get your attention."

"Sorry," he said. The fact that the Doctor's mind was not focused on anything related to the company must have evident to Barbara.

"Care to share with the rest of the class?"

"Mind's distracted," the Doctor said simply. On his computer screen was Rose Tyler's profile page. He had been staring at it as if doing so would help him come up with a plan for how to see her again. But at Barbara's quip, he switched it off, so that only his normal desktop appeared. Then a thought came to him. "Barbara, do you know who was responsible for the transition process after we acquired Henrick's?"

"Not off the top of my head," Barbara said. "Why?"

"Met a former assistant manager from Henrick's while on holiday," he said. "Turns out whoever was in charge of the retail store laid off everyone who had a managerial title and replaced them with people from within Arcadia."

"That makes no sense," said Barbara with a frown. "Other than hiring an extra manager at the store to help merge the companies, the only changes were supposed to be at the corporate level. And the two executives who were leaving were the ones we bought out. And they stepped down voluntarily."

"It's like the whole plan got rewritten by an idiot," the Doctor said.

"I'll look into this right after I make a sign for the copier," said Barbara, standing. "Something's clearly not right."

Two hours later, the Doctor stood in front of the copy machine waiting for it to finish copying the spreadsheets he had forgotten to give to Lynda to take care of. (She had enough to do already, so he figured he might as well finish the task himself.) He saw the new sign that had been posted above machine and chuckled. It consisted of a picture of a dragon and a message that read:

_Copier protected by attack dragon.__  
__Employees caught making copies for personal use will be eaten._

"Nice sign," he said as Barbara walked up to him. "But remind me to be more careful what I approve next time."

Barbara smiled at the Doctor's comment, but her smile quickly changed to a frown. "I found the person who does deserve to be devoured by a dragon," she said. "I have some documents on my computer to show you. Unfortunately the layoffs were not an idiot mistake. "

The Doctor followed Barbara to her office, and after she had shut the door, he pulled a chair around to her side of the desk so he could see what she had to share.

"Look," Barbara said, pointing at her screen and directing him to a plan that had been drawn up in early September. "The whole thing was supposed to be overseen by Nicole De Maggio. But," she said as she opened a new document, "this one a month later shows Adam Mitchell in charge."

"Adam?" the Doctor said surprised as he looked at the screen. "The twenty-year-old tech genius that finished university early? He was hired for IT, not management. No one would have authorized that change."

"Exactly my thought," Barbara agreed. "So I did some digging." She opened a document that listed the twelve current Henrik's managers and assistant managers then opened each of their job histories. When Barbara had finished, her screen was covered with files . "It seems Adam hired one person from each of our other retailers and raised their salary at their new position at Henrik's. But this person," she said, pointing to the screen, "Suki Cantrell, has no record with us before starting at Henrik's."

"One of his friends?" guessed the Doctor.

"I thought so," Barbara said, "but the records are faked. That employee doesn't even exist, but 'her' pay has been directly deposited into a bank downtown since the end of October. And it's twice as much as any assistant manager at that store has ever made."

"He must've hacked the system and put himself over the transition," the Doctor concluded. "Then he created a fake employee and took that salary for himself. And since the managers were all new and didn't know each other, they didn't catch on."

"Looks that way," Barbara said. "And he paid them well so they'd think twice about speaking up even if they had suspected anything. Ooh, it makes me so angry!" She looked out through the tinted windowed wall of her office and directly at the deceitful young man, who was sitting at his desk with his back to them. "He did all this sitting just a few meters from me!"

The Doctor stood, walked to the glass wall, and looked out. Adam Mitchell was talking on the phone, laughing, unaware that he was being watched. If Barbara was angry, the Doctor was livid. The position for which the technology expert had set up a fake account had been identical to Rose's. Logically he knew that even if Adam had used a different position, Rose would still have lost her job, but this somehow made it more personal. "Where's that dragon?" he asked as the muscles in his jaw tightened. "Sacking him isn't enough."

"He can be prosecuted for embezzlement too," said Barbara, getting up from her chair and walking to where the Doctor stood.

"Still not enough," the Doctor said. The tension in his jaw spread to the rest of his body and a fire blazed within him. He almost believed he could channel it and become that fire-breathing dragon and consume the object of his ire.

"At least we caught it rather early," Barbara said. Her voice was calm and steady but it did little to soothe the beast within the Doctor. "We didn't lose much."

"We didn't lose much?" the Doctor asked incredulously. "Twelve people lost their job right before Christmas!"

"I didn't mean that," Barbara said. "I just meant that as far as fiscal loss—"

"But that's not what matters!" the Doctor shouted, interrupting her. He saw her instantly shrink back, and knew he had to regain control. He took a deep breath. "Those people," he said, "many of whom survive from one paycheck to the next—have lost their livelihood."

Neither person spoke as they considered the impact of Adam Mitchell's actions.

"Maybe we can rectify some of this," Barbara said finally. "We have the information on everyone that was let go. And we own several retail stores that have openings. We could contact the people that were let go and offer them a similar position to the one they had."

"Damage's already been done," the Doctor said, shaking his head. "They might not want our help." He thought of Rose's rejection of his offer and his face darkened. "Seen that happen."

"That _is_ a possibility," agreed Barbara. "They might never trust us again." She walked back to her desk, sat down, and selected something on the screen. "Or they might understand the situation and that we doing our best to make amends." She moved her mouse and typed something on the keyboard. Soon the printer started working. "We have to try at least."

The Doctor contemplated Barbara's words as he watched the printer spit out one paper after another. A few minutes later, twelve sheets of paper waited in the printer tray.

"There we are," Barbara said walking over to the printer and removing the printed pages. "We can give these employee files to the HR department and have them call with job offers."

"Have HR make a list of available positions," the Doctor said. "But give me a copy of the files. I want to make the calls."

"You don't have to do that," Barbara said. "We have personnel to help for a reason."

"My company. My fault," he told her. "I need apologize." He looked once again at the traitorous worker. "Had a sense I shouldn't trust that boy, but hired him anyway." He stared out the window paralyzed by feelings of guilt. Just like the fire that had taken his family, he had ignored the warnings and people had gotten hurt. "Said it wasn't my fault, but it is."

"Then I'm to blame too"" said Barbara, walking back over to the window. "You forget I convinced you to give him a try." The Doctor barely heard her. Thoughts of Rose mingled with thoughts of Susan and his parents. Despite the charities he supported and the fair and ethical way he tried to run his business, he did not feel he was the good man people thought him to be. He was definitely not the type of man Rose deserved. "John," Barbara's voice seemed to echo from somewhere distant. "John, are you even listening?"

Her voice sounded kind. Kinder than he believed he deserved. He should respond, but he was trapped in a guilt-induced stupor from which he couldn't escape.

"John!" Barbara's voice said with more insistence. "DOCTOR!"

The Doctor blinked. He turned his head in the direction of the voice and beheld the concerned visage of his colleague and friend.

"You need to let me share the blame and help fix this," she said.

The Doctor nodded and turned from the window. He did his best to clear his mind. "Write up his dismissal papers and call the proper authorities," he said. "But I want to be the one to show Adam the door."

* * *

Rose sat nervously in the lobby of the Flydale Fashions office waiting to be called for her interview. She had checked and rechecked her appearance several times and had deemed it acceptable, but now she was not as certain. That morning she had gone to the large Flydale store in Piccadilly Circus to select an outfit for her interview. Though the store's focus was trendy clothes for young people, she was able to select a skirt and a blouse that, though bolder than typical office attire, was still conservative enough to fit in among typical business dress. She then found shoes that were smart and simple, but with strap around the ankle and a large buckle that gave them a youthful vibe. She tied the look together with a pink and purple silk infinity scarf she had bought at the store on a previous trip and a conservative handbag and navy blazer that she had purchased elsewhere. Because her clothes were more daring, she kept her hair, jewelry, and makeup simple. Rose knew she looked good, and choosing the right clothes for the occasion was an area Rose knew she was skilled at, but the part of her that thought she was applying for a job that was beyond her was messing with her confidence.

Rose closed her eyes, then inhaled and exhaled slowly. At the last minute she had taken the flash drive the Doctor had given her and put it in her blazer pocket. She couldn't explain her reason for doing so—she doubted it would be of use during the interview— but for some reason, it seemed comforting to bring it along. Now she reached in her pocket and turned it in her hand like a worry stone. As she did, she remembered the message the Doctor had written for her:

_You can do so much more than you've given yourself credit for. You've just let doubts get in the way…If you can see yourself as I have, no one can take that away._

Rose focused on those words and took them to heart. Then she remembered the Doctor's suggestion that she look him up once she had a new job so they could celebrate over dinner. Rose was done with regrets. If she was confident enough to interview for a choice position at a successful company, she also had the confidence to ring the Doctor and tell him she had made a mistake by not continuing contact. From there they could tackle the challenges their differences brought one day at a time.

Rose smiled. It was decided. She was going into the interview with the belief that she deserved the job. Then—job offer or not—she was going to look up Arcadia Associated's number, and somehow or other, she was going to find the Doctor.

"Rose Tyler?" a young man said, interrupting her thoughts. "Ms. Jones will see you now."

Rose walked into the office and was greeted by a woman who appeared to be in her early fifties with a fashionable yet conservative business outfit and auburn hair cut in a classic bob. "Harriet Jones, HR for Flydale Fashions," the woman said extending her hand and returning Roses smile.

"Yes, hello," Rose said. "Nice to meet you."

"It's wonderful to meet _you_," Ms. Jones said. "I'll be blunt. Your resume and experience has management very excited. As long as what I see in person matches what is written, they are ready to hire you today."

Rose's heart skipped a beat and it took incredible willpower to stay professional. She was used to interviewers keeping her in suspense for the entire meeting. "Um, well. Thank you Ms. Jones. I am grateful for the opportunity to show you who I am."

"Please," the HR director said, "call me Harriet. Shall we sit down?"

Rose nodded and took a step toward the desk.

"No, no," Harriet said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Over here." She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the city, by which two floral wing-back chairs sat facing each other at an angle. Between them, also along the window, was a small round wooden table. Rose thought the sitting area was lovely, but it stood in stark contrast to the modern professional look of the rest of the office.

"Do have a seat," Harriet said, indicating one of the chairs. Rose sat. "I find that one needs a place to be comfortable, even in the midst of a busy day," the woman explained. "I also think that an interview goes better if we can converse on more equal ground rather than with an imposing desk between us." She made a motion to sit as well, but then paused. "I bet you'd like a coffee," she said.

"That would be nice, thank you," said Rose. "Milk, two sugars."

Harriet requested two coffees from the young man who had seen Rose in, then sat in the chair opposite Rose. Harriet Jones carried herself with the poise of nobility, but her interview methods were unconventional. While they waited for their coffee, she asked Rose about her Christmas and Rose told her about her ski holiday. Even after the young man had brought their coffee, Harriet continued to ask for details. Rose found herself sharing most of her trip, even mentioning the Doctor but just referring to him as "a friend of mine," and leaving out all other details.

"Oh to be younger!" said Harriet with a wistful smile. "I remember the days when my holidays were like that. I tend to prefer tours of historical places these days."

"I'd love that too," agreed Rose. "But I also enjoy the excitement of seeing a thriving city."

"If that's the case," Harriet said. "This job just might be the right fit for you." Harriet set down her empty coffee mug and focused her attention on Rose. "Tell me, how did you hear about Flydale fashions?"

"Well, of course everybody has," Rose said. "It's one of the most popular shops for young people in Britain. I especially love the current selection of infinity scarves."

"I see you are wearing one from our fall line," Harriet noted. "So you've bought from the store in the past."

"Yes," said Rose. "Naturally, most of my wardrobe used to come from Henrik's, the shop I used to work at, but whenever I wasn't at work I liked to create outfits with pieces from other popular retailers. Flydale has always been a favorite."

"But Henrik's has nice items as well," commented Harriet. "You spent much of your time as a personal shopper and even advised management in the purchasing of certain clothing lines is that correct?"

"It is," Rose said. "I enjoy following the trends and predicting what will be popular the next season."

"Wonderful," Harriet said. "From your resume, it seems that all your experience and training in that area was acquired on the job."

"That's true," Rose said, doing her best to sound confident. She ignored the voice that urged her to flee and apologize to Harriet Jones for wasting her time.

"That's very impressive," Harriet told her. "And it's even more impressive that you were bold enough to apply for a job as assistant buyer without formal training. Tell me, how did you hear about the position and what inspired you to take that chance?"

"A friend referred me," she said. The safe thing to do would have been to stop there, but there was something she liked about Harriet Jones, so she elaborated. "The one I mentioned earlier. We actually met on holiday and I found out that he worked in management for the company that bought out Henrik's."

"The company that laid you and several others off due to corporate restructuring?" Harriet asked.

"Yes." Rose wondered if she had said too much, but now she had no choice but to be forthcoming.

"After you learned this, you still chose to be friends, then he referred you to one of the company's competitors?" Harriet asked in amazement.

"That's right," said Rose with a grin. "He even helped me with my resume."

"Well, that's a strange friendship," Harriet commented.

Rose supposed the woman was right, but she realized that it didn't matter. It had been wonderful, and just because parts of their relationship were unconventional, there was no reason to assume it couldn't t continue as it had begun. None of this, of course, had anything to do with the position she was interviewing for, so Rose quickly regained focus and tried to think of a response that would show herself in the best light. However, Harriet spoke again before she had the chance.

"No matter," she said. "I am just glad he sent us your way. The management likes the idea of hiring an assistant buyer who is newer to the business and has not had all the creativity trained out of them."

Rose smiled in response but kept the excitement that was bubbling within her from being evident.

"You will, of course, need to get the proper training so that you can understand normal protocols," Harriet continued, "but Flydale would like to provide that education at an establishment of our choosing. You would be taking classes and working concurrently. Is that something you think you could manage?"

"Oh absolutely!" exclaimed Rose, forgetting her professional demeanor.

Harriet laughed good-naturedly. "Then the job is yours if you want it," she said "I suppose all that is left is to discuss salary. What wage are you hoping to make?"

Rose told Harriet the figure the Doctor had suggested in his notes to her. And though it seemed like far too much, Harriet told her that she found it a very fair number and offered a salary that was slightly higher. She then told Rose to come by the next day to fill out paperwork, get a tour of the corporate office, and to meet the CEO and the others she would be working with.

Once the details were discussed, Harriet stood up and Rose followed her lead. "Well, my dear," said Harriet. "Welcome to the Flydale Fashions Family."

Rose motioned to shake her hand, but Harriet hugged her instead. "Make sure you thank your friend for the referral and the help," Harriet said as she walked Rose to the door of her office.

"I will," Rose said. "As soon as I'm able."

* * *

"What's her name?" Barbara said from the doorway of the Doctor's office.

The Doctor looked up from the page he was reading to acknowledge Barbara, then back down at the page again to read the name at the top. "Says Amy Pond," he answered. "Called ten of the laid-off workers, she's the eleventh."

His colleague walked in and sat in the chair in front of his desk. "That's not what I meant," said Barbara. "Every time I've stepped in here this afternoon, you've taken the page you were looking at and stuck it somewhere in the middle of the stack."

He had. Something kept drawing him back to the paper with Rose's information. In between calling her former co-workers, he would stare at the page wondering if he should call her or perhaps just show up at her door. But whenever Barbara had come in, he had felt like a child who had been caught reading comic books instead of doing homework. So he had stuck the file back in the middle and tried to concentrate on his task.

"Do you have a reason for questioning the way I work, or is there something I can help you with?" groused the Doctor.

"That's not going to work anymore, Doctor," said Barbara. "If you are my friend and not just John, my boss, I have the right to show concern. You seem to be reacting to more than just the situation with Adam Mitchell."

" 'M' fine," he said. "Especially now that the corrupt boy genius is gone." He looked at her and pasted a grin on his face. "See? Smiling. Thanks for asking though."

"You're not fine," she said. "We discovered Adam's scheme because you said you'd met one of the Henrik's managers on your holiday."

"Right," the Doctor said, suddenly finding reason to scrutinize Amy Pond's work history.

"And if I understood correctly," Barbara continued, "you already offered that person a position in our company, but they turned it down."

"Right again." The Doctor put the paper down and opened his desk drawer, rummaging around for a biro pen. He wasn't sure what he needed it for, but he focused all of his attention on the search.

"You changed as a result of your holiday," Barbara said "I thought it was all positive, but in my office earlier, you snapped."

The Doctor set down the pen he had located and lowered his head. "Sorry," he said. "Shouldn't have yelled at you."

"That's alright," Barbara said. "It's understandable given the situation, but you didn't just get angry." She looked toward his office window as if recalling the window in her own office. "For a moment you were lost somewhere else." She paused. The Doctor didn't know if she was waiting for him to interject or just deciding what to say next, but he chose to remain silent and busied himself by straightening the items on his desk.

"It took me a while to put the pieces together, but I think I understand," Barbara said. "Someone broke your heart." She reached forward and tapped the stack of papers on the Doctor's desk. "And one of those files is hers."

As usual, Barbara's intuition was spot on. The Doctor wasn't sure what to do about that. He nodded almost imperceptibly, then looked down, concentrating on the pattern in the wood grain on his desk rather than risk any display of emotion that might come from making eye contact with Barbara. She sat quietly, seemingly unaffected by his prolonged silence. Finally, he took the mobile phone out of his pocket, found the two pictures of he and Rose under the mistletoe (one straight ahead, and one in an awkwardly posed kiss that actually ended up looking pretty nice) and arranged them to be displayed side by side. Then he slid the mobile across the desk for Barbara to see.

"She's beautiful," Barbara commented. "And you both look so happy in this one." Barbra's placed his mobile on the desk. "What happened?" she asked in a soft voice.

The Doctor couldn't tell her, not because he thought it was too personal, but because he wasn't sure he knew the answer. If he had to guess, he would have said that everything had happened too quick and therefore Rose had not felt there was enough of a foundation to build a relationship on. But he was willing to try again if he could only find the right way to reach her.

Perhaps Barbara understood that the question was too difficult to answer, because after a moment she reverted to her original inquiry. "That friend of yours. What's her name?"

The Doctor's thoughts turned to the memory of running hand in hand with a stranger and being so spellbound by her that he introduced himself as the Doctor rather than use his rather generic first name. And then she had told him hers. "Her name is Rose," he said fondly.

Once the Doctor said her name, everything else came tumbling out as well. He told Barbara about his holiday and about Rose, elaborating on his feelings more than he did on the events that took place. He concluded by telling her about their farewell and the feeling of devastation with which he had been left.

"I need to see her again," the Doctor said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Have to tell her what she means to me."

"You do," agreed Barbara. "And I'm going to help you make that happen."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I keep saying I am not going to apologize, but I had never intended my CHRISTMAS story to be unfinished a week from Valentine's Day! The blame for the delay this time is divided among many reasons. Most fall under "real life," but the one that frustrated me is that this chapter was harder to write than I expected it to be. It was supposed to be a shorter interim and ended up getting longer and longer. And characters just kept having more to say. But eventually I got it done.

The mention of employee records comes courtesy of TiaKisu, who mentioned it in a review to me and I liked the depth that it adds to my original outline. Thank you! Now we just have to see what resources (Facebook, employee records, something else altogether) the Doctor ends up using to contact Rose, and how he goes about it. That is, unless Rose gets to the Doctor first.

The dragon mentioned was a little nod to the creatures in Father's Day.

Almost through! Thanks for sticking with me!

Also, don't forget to read my profile for updates. I usually update on Sunday.


	15. Home, Day 4: Wed (New Year's Eve Day)

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Home, Day 4 - New Years Eve, (Daytime), Wednesday, 31 December**

Rose sat at the dining room table looking over the to-do list she had written after returning from the Flydale Fashions office. She had met several people there, filled out several forms, and left Flydale feeling even more optimistic and exited than she had felt the day before. Now it was just past noon and she was back at her flat trying to plan the rest of her day before the annual New Year's Eve celebration at the local pub. Rose yawned at the thought of a late night and added "have a nap" to her list. Though her morning meeting had not been particularly early, she had gone out the night before with Shireen and Keisha to celebrate her new job, and she was beginning to feel the effects of not getting a full night's sleep. Rose would enjoy her evening much more if she got some rest first. At the same time, the other items on her list were also important, and she was uncertain about the order in which she should complete them.

As she was considering her choices, she heard the doorbell buzz. She opened the door and found Mickey standing in front of her. Rose attempted some sort of greeting but her memory of their last encounter left her at a loss for words.

"Can I come in?" Mickey asked after a few seconds.

Rose stepped to the side to allow him to enter. She shut the door behind them, and they stood motionless as Rose waited for Mickey to speak.

"You going to the party tonight?" he finally asked.

Rose nodded in response.

"Thought so," said Mickey. He walked past the foyer into the living room and Rose followed behind. "That's why I thought I'd come over. I needed to talk to you first." He looked around the room. "Where's your mum?"

"Shopping," Rose said. "Apparently the dress she wore last year isn't good enough to be worn again."

Mickey grinned. "And she gets on _you_ for airs and graces!"

Despite herself, Rose grinned back, but the discomfort that had carried over from their last conversation soon returned. "Why are you here Mickey?" she asked him. "I'm sorry for how our conversation ended, but I don't know that there's really more to say."

"That's exactly why I'm here," Mickey answered. "We've been mates too long. We can't end things on a fight." He pulled a chair away from the dining room table and sat down.

Rose sat where she had been sitting before, but angled her chair slightly toward Mickey. "Okay," she said cautiously. "Now what?"

Mickey's head bent his head down and did not make eye contact . "I just want you to know you can still rely on me," he said.

Rose cringed inwardly. She wondered if Mickey would ever accept the finality of their break-up. "Mickey," Rose began in a tone she hoped was both firm and comforting.

"No, I get it," Mickey said. "We had something a long time ago, but not anymore. That's what you've been saying for months, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry Mickey," Rose said, almost in a whisper.

Mickey looked up and smiled sadly. "It's okay," he said. "We've had a laugh though haven't we?"

Rose nodded with a wistful smile. She did not regret their time as a couple, but they had grown apart long before their last breakup. Though she knew Mickey was still hurting over their split, she appreciated being able to acknowledge that they had shared memories worth treasuring. This was the way things should have ended months ago. Instead, she had stood with him on the pavement in front of their estates as Shireen waited just around the corner for moral support. Rose told him they were through for good and ran off to find her friend without letting Mickey speak. It had been unkind and cowardly, and she had instantly regretted it. So though Mickey's current visit was unexpected, she was glad he was there. They both needed the closure.

"We've changed a lot, me an' you," Mickey continued after a moment. "But you and your mum are the only family I got left." He played with the zipper pull of his jacket as he spoke. "People say 'We'll still be friends' 'cos it sounds better," said Mickey "But I mean it. I'm still your friend…if you want that." He lifted his head up and caught Rose's gaze.

Rose looked at his deep brown eyes and recalled the same soulful eyes when he was much younger pleading with her not to tell his grandmother and her mother that it was his fault her new dress had been splattered with mud. She remembered those same eyes sparkling with laughter as they rode the roller coaster at the fun fair. She recalled their look of unquestioning compassion when she had phoned him to rescue her from Jimmy Stone's flat. And she remembered them wet with tears of grief as they said their last farewells to his grandmother. Mickey and Rose had been through hell and back together, and most of it occurred when they were platonic friends.

"Yeah," Rose said. "I want that." She knew Mickey still had feelings for her, but she could also tell he was trying to move on. She would have to be careful not to send out mixed signals, but she was glad there was hope that they could start over as friends.

"Now what," she asked.

"Suppose a hug is okay?"

Rose nodded.

They stood up then hugged in a way that was stiff and formal. It was followed by an awkward silence. "Was there anything else?" Rose asked.

Mickey shook his head. "That's all I came to say," he said. "I didn't want tonight to be weird for either of us."

Rose nodded again. It seemed to be the only way Rose was able to respond.

Mickey pushed his chair back under the table and Rose saw his eyes fall on her list of tasks. "Lots to do before tonight?" he asked.

"Not too much," Rose answered, glancing at the list herself. "I just can't decide the best order to do things in. I was out with Shireen and Keisha last night celebrating that I got a new job and—"

"Congratulations."

"Thanks. Anyway it means I'm going to be tired tonight if I don't get some sleep, but I have things that need doing as well."

"The garage is closed for the rest of the day," Mickey said. "Do you want some help?"

Rose pondered his offer and determined there was no harm in accepting it. "Sure," she told him. Besides, the first two items on her list would make it clear that her affections lied elsewhere. At least, that was what Rose thought until Mickey picked up the list and read it more carefully.

"Find the number for Arcadia Associated," he said, reading the first item on the list. He chuckled. "Planning on suing them for sacking you like your mum suggested?"

"No," said Rose, feeling suddenly self-conscious. "Someone there helped me get my new job. 'M trying to find them so I can thank them."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Mickey said. "I can get the main number from their website. Then there's usually a company directory as part of the phone system."

"I don't think that includes the CEO," she said, trying to keep her tone casual. "He's the one I need to thank."

"Yeah, that might be a little harder," Mickey said. "Have you thought of writing a letter?"

"No, I…" she hesitated. "I really need to talk to him."

Mickey looked at Rose with brows furrowed in what she guessed was suspicion, confusion, or a little bit of both, but he didn't ask any questions. "Okay," he said. "I'll do what I can." And before she could thank him for his willingness to help, he had moved on to the second bullet point on her list. "

"Call the Doctor," he said. "You're not sick, are you?"

Rose shook her head. She knew she should correct Mickey's misunderstanding, especially since doing so would emphasize the "strictly friends" status of their relationship, but she had no idea where to begin.

"You should probably handle that one," he said, "since it's more personal"

"You have no idea," she said under her breath, but the look on Mickey's face made it clear that she had not said it quietly enough. She knew she had to clarify things before he started drawing wild and incorrect conclusions as to why she might need to see a physician.

"The first two go together," she said, directing her eyes at the list, rather than at her ex-boyfriend. "John Smith, the CEO of Arcadia Associated is also called the Doctor. He's the one I need to call."

"You pretty much wrote the same thing twice then," said Mickey.

"No," said Rose as she gently took the paper from Mickey's hand. "One was to get the information I needed." She looked at the second item, which was underlined twice. "The other is there to make sure I actually call and don't chicken out."

"It's just a call to say thanks," Mickey said. "Why would you chicken out of that?"

Rose walked to the salon portion of the room and dropped herself into the nearest easy chair. She hung her head, feeling sheepish. "Because I'm not sure he even wants to hear from me."

Mickey made his way to the sofa and sat down. "I can't say I understand why the head of the company that sacked you would help find you a job somewhere else," he said. "But since he did, I reckon he'd be happy to know you were successful."

"It's more complicated than that," Rose said. She wasn't sure she wanted Mickey to know any more, but she reasoned her humiliation couldn't get much worse. "The CEO—the Doctor-he's the bloke I met on my holiday." She looked up to gauge Mickey's reaction. His face was stoic and hard to read. "He put a resume and some leads on a flash drive and gave it to me the day I left. But other than knowing where he works, I have no idea where he is or how to find him."

Mickey shook his head and a wry smile flashed briefly across his features. "Some boyfriend _he_ turned out to be."

Rose moode shifted from embarrassed to angry "That was my doing!" Rose snapped at him. "And he's not my boyfriend, Mickey! He's—" she paused as she became conscious of just how great the impact of her short time with the Doctor had been. "He's better than that. He's much more important than—" Rose stopped, unsure of how to finish her thought. She sighed, put her list on the coffee table, and slumped back in her seat.

"You really love him, don't you?" Mickey's asked, and Rose could detect the surrender in his voice.

Rose did not answer in the affirmative, but neither did she deny it. It seemed irresponsible to say she loved someone she had only known a week, but her feelings for the Doctor surpassed any feelings she had ever had for the man who had just asked her the question.

Mickey picked up the list from the coffee table. "Right," he said in a tone that was much lighter. "New question: Are you more tired or more hungry?"

Rose was relieved that Mickey had changed the subject. "Tired," she answered, stifling a yawn.

"Okay," said Mickey. "The rest of these are simple things: tidy the living room, go to the grocery store, and such. You can kip down while I do them. Then I'll bring back some lunch for us."

Rose felt a rush of gratitude for her friend. Even after learning about the Doctor, he was still willing to help her. She thanked him and retired to her room. Once there, she realized just how tired she was, and it did not take long for her to drift off to sleep.

* * *

"Ready to get to work?" Barbara said in a chipper voice as she walked into the Doctor's office at nine in the morning.

The Doctor looked up from the financial report he was reviewing. "Don't know about you, but I've been working for two hours."

"Well, not all of us can survive on five hours of sleep and enjoy being up so early in the morning," Barbara said. "Besides, that's not what I was referring to. You know very well that there is little to do today, and we have _other_ work to do."

The Doctor raised his eyes at her authoritative tone. Somehow her new status as his friend had made her disregard what little semblance of hierarchy they had previously adhered to. He grinned, rolled his eyes good naturedly, and directed his attention to the magazines in Barbara's arms. The top periodical on the stack was a well known fashion magazine. When Barbara put the stack on his desk, the glossy finishes on the covers caused the others to slide, and it was clear that the other magazines had a similar focus.

"Is this your way of suggesting we branch into fashion journalism?" he asked his CFO.

"No, these are for you," she said.

The Doctor picked up the top magazine and skimmed the various headings before setting it down again.

"Well, I appreciate the thought," he said dryly, "but I've already picked out a 'sexy and gorgeous evening dress' for New Year's Eve."

"I'm guessing it's an off-the-shoulder number in royal blue to bring out your eyes," Barbara responded with a straight face as she sat down in front of the desk. "Am I right?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Strapless in aubergine."

"Well, since that part is sorted," Barbara said without cracking a smile, "I can move onto the articles I wanted show you."

Barbara opened the four magazines to pages she had dog-eared and set each of them side by side on the desk in front of the Doctor. "I remembered reading some articles I thought were pertinent to your situation," she said. "So I found them and brought them in."

"My situation?" The Doctor asked.

He looked at the articles displayed before him: "Holiday Fling or the Real Thing? How to Know if Your Romance is Worth Continuing;" "Breaking Barriers: Love Across Social Class;" "Nine Reasons a Large Age Gap Can be Fine;" and "Second Chance for Romance: Dating Do-Overs."

"Oh _that_ situation," he said. Barbara had promised to help him find a way to talk to Rose, but he couldn't help but chuckle at the form her help had taken.

"I know they're geared toward women, and not everything will apply to you," Barbara said. "But I thought you might find some encouragement or a tip or two in them.

The Doctor scanned the articles. They actually didn't seem too bad considering their source. "Appreciate it," he told her honestly.

"I thought about looking online for similar articles for men," said Barbara, sounding unsure "but I already had these and figured you could look up more on your own…"

"I'll read them," the Doctor said. He didn't know how much help they would really be, but he wouldn't let Barbara's gesture go to waste.

"Okay," said Barbara, looking relived. She excused herself to read her some email, and when she returned, the Doctor had read all the articles plus a few more he had found online. She was right: he did feel more encouraged. After reading several testimonials, he was confident that the differences between he and Rose were no more difficult than any other challenges that couples might face.

"Brilliant," Barbara said, when the Doctor had told her the conclusions he had come to. "The only thing we have to do is find the right way to let her know how you feel."

_Only. _The Doctor took in a deep breath and excelled slowly to keep his nervousness from becoming fully realized.

"I'm not saying it will be easy, but at least you have a way to contact her."

"More than one," he said. He switched the tab on his computer from his email to the tab already open to her profile page. "Not sure which is best."

"Not that way," Barbara said as she glanced at his screen. "That's far too impersonal."

"Figured that out," he said. "Genius me. Wasn't planning to have my say through computer messaging." He looked at the image of Rose's smiling face as he hovered the mouse over the message button. "But I could use it to arrange a meeting with her."

"And what if she doesn't respond right away?" Barbara challenged him. "You wouldn't know is she was just nervous, hadn't received the message, or had decided to ignore you."

"Could phone her," said the Doctor, tapping his biro pen in thought.

"And what if she doesn't answer numbers she doesn't recognize?" Barbara asked.

"Leave a message?" he suggested.

"Her generation rarely checks voice mail, especially from a number they don't know."

"Really?" said the Doctor, trying his best not to let the "her generation" comment get to him.

Barbara nodded. "Takes too much time."

"Text her?"

"Then you have the same issue you do with the Facebook message."

"Fine," said the Doctor, feeling frustrated. "Then what do you suggest? Just show up at her front door?"

Barbara said nothing, but her face spoke volumes.

The Doctor shook his head. "Just because things worked out when I did that _accidently, _doesn't mean—" he began, but Barbara's raised eyes were insistent. "This is her _home_," he argued. "Makes things different."

Barbara continued to give him a pointed look.

"She might find it creepy, me showin' up at her door and knowin' her address."

"She might find it romantic. And you can explain why you have her information and the real reason she was let go."

"She might not be home."

"Then you try again another time."

"Her mother might answer."

"Then have an escape route ready," Barbara quipped.

The Doctor smiled. The idea of meeting her mother was an intimidating enough. Doing so unexpectedly while trying to win back a girl who was almost sixteen years younger made it downright terrifying.

"So providing she's there and willing to talk to me, what do I say?"

"Just be yourself and speak from your heart."

The words were cliché, but Barbara's tone and kind smile had the Doctor taking them to heart. He had not been trying to win her the first time, it just happened. All he had to do was ask her again. He could do that.

"You _could_ try doing something romantic," Barbara suggested. "Like in the films. Lift a boom box over your head, share a plate of spaghetti and give her the last meatball, declare your feelings on cue cards…"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Doesn't sound like me."

"No," Barbara said. "Suppose not."

"I think I'll manage," the Doctor said. He was ready to let the subject drop and concentrate on work. He opened the calendar on his computer desktop. Barbara was right. There was almost nothing to do. He switched over to his email and attempted to look busy.

"Hint taken," said Barbara standing up. "I'll leave and stop butting in." Her voice was still light, and the Doctor was glad she had not been offended by his abrupt end to their conversation. "But while you sit there pretending to work, you might want to determine the optimal time and date to see her. If it were up to me, I wouldn't wait too long."

The Doctor nodded and let her leave. He wasn't even going to pretend to work. A plan was forming in his mind, and if it worked, it would be fantastic.

* * *

"Hey babe, rise and shine," Mickey's said from the outside Rose's room. She had been so tired, she had not even bothered closing the door.

"You really shouldn't call me that anymore," she mumbled sleepily. She didn't open her eyes make any other attempt to wake; she was too comfortable.

"Why not?" Mickey asked. "I've been calling you that since we were kids. Rose, the wee babe who insisted on hanging around kids three and four years older Gran said you had an old soul and forced me to let you tag along."

Rose smiled at the memory. "Well, at least say it less," she said as she stretched and sat up. "One day you'll have a girlfriend who won't care where the nickname came from. And I…" There was no way to finish the sentence without seeming unkind to Mickey, so she let it drop."

"And you've got your heart set on finding someone else," Mickey said.

Rose let the silence answer for her.

Mickey's response was a nod. "Well, come eat," he said. "I got Chinese."

Over lunch, Mickey showed Rose her to-do list. Everything was checked off except for her nap and lunch (which she crossed off as she looked at it) and "Call the Doctor."

"You found Arcadia's number?" Rose asked.

"Yeah it was right under "contact us" on their webpage," Mickey told her. "But I wouldn't get your hopes up on finding your "Doctor" that way.'

"I know," Rose said as she pushed a piece of chicken around her plate. "But I have to try."

After she was done eating, Rose called the number Mickey had written at the bottom of her list. She listened through the list of options and pressed the number nine, which brought her to a company directory arranged by last name. She typed in _S-M-I_ when prompted and hoped for the best. The electronic voice listed an Andrew Smith, a Julia Smith, and a Mike Smith, but no John Smith. She navigated her way to customer service and asked for John Smith, but the woman on the other said that there was no one in the directory by that name and therefore she could not help her. Rose asked to be transferred to a supervisor, who told her the same thing. Rose ended the call with frustration.

"I'm sorry, Rose," Mickey said. "At least you tried."

But Rose was not ready to admit defeat. "The Arcadia website," she said "Did it have an address listed?"

"Yeah, right there with the phone number," Mickey said.

he frustration she had felt moments before had faded into hope. "Then we can go there! We can look up directions and drive right to it!" She almost danced as she spoke.

"Rose," said Mickey, interrupting her revelry.

"Hmm?" hummed Rose, trying not to be deterred by his lack of excitement. She couldn't very well expect him to share in her joy.

"If you go there, even if you find him, you may find he doesn't want to talk to you."

Rose was touched at his concern, but she couldn't let it dissuade her. She looked around her flat then gazed out the window to the street below. "That's a risk I've got to take, because there's nothing left for me here."

"Nothing?" Mickey asked as he cast his eyes downward.

"No," Rose admitted, knowing that her words must have stung. She would never be ashamed of where she had come from, but it had stopped feeling like home a long time ago.

Rose saw a flash of hurt in Mickey's eyes, but it was replaced with a look of determination. "Okay, if that's what you think," he said, "let's go find that office."

* * *

It was half past three when Rose and Mickey entered the reception area of the Arcadia Associated office. Mickey found a bench and sat down to read a magazine. Rose approached the ark-shaped reception desk alone.

"Hello," Rose said with the friendliest and most professional voice she could manage.

"Hello," echoed the ginger-haired woman behind the counter. "How can I help you?"

Rose's pulse sped up and her stomach churned. Why did she think coming in person would change anything? But she was already there, and she had nothing to lose by trying.

"Actually," said Rose straightening her posture. "I'm looking for John Smith, the Chief Executive Officer."

"I'm sorry. I can't help you there," said the woman. "Mr. Smith doesn't usually see people without an appointment."

"But that means sometimes he _does_," said Rose, making a concentrated effort to sound confident. "It might as well be me!"

"And who do _you_ represent?" asked the woman sounding bored. Rose also thought she detected a hint of sarcasm.

"Er...I work for Flydale Fashions," she said. It might not have been a direct answer to the question, but it was honest and the best answer Rose could come up with on the spot. She really should have planned this out better.

"Are you one of Arcadia's subsidiaries?"

"No." Rose needed to say more if she was going to get anywhere, but nothing came to mind.

The woman huffed. "Okay sister, is there something I can actually help you with? Some department I can direct you to? Because I'm done at four and you're not making me go home late on a holiday. I'm not sitting in a traffic jam."

"Can you at least give me his number?" Rose asked, aware that any illusion of professionalism had vanished. "If I could just talk to him…"

Something in the woman's face softened. "Look," she said with a tone that matched her now-kinder features. "I'm just a temp and I unusually do secretarial work. I'm only stuck at reception because just about everyone else has gone home. Even if I knew John Smith's direct number, I wouldn't have the authorization to give it out."

"I can't give up." Rose was not going to cry. There was no way she was going to cry in the middle of an office building in front of a total stranger while her ex-boyfriend sat just a few feet away. But she still sighed heavily, walked over to the bench on which Mickey was sitting, and sat down beside him.

Rose listened as the clock on the wall behind the ginger-haired woman ticked out the seconds. Neither Mickey nor she spoke. "There's got to be something else we can do," Mickey finally said.

Rose shook her head. "Mum was right. Maybe I should forget the Doctor and move on."

"I'm not having that," said Mickey with a frown. "I'm not having you just give up now. No way. We just need to think of a new plan." There was a sound of clicking heels as the temp walked over to the pair and stopped in front of them.

"Right," the woman said "I shouldn't be doing this, but I thought of one thing I can try. You've only got until four o'clock, so let's get on with it." Using her head, the woman gestured toward the reception desk.

Stunned at the turn of events, Rose was unable to get her body to obey and follow the woman.

"Come on before I change my mind," the woman said.

That was the push Rose needed. She sprung up and followed the woman over the desk.

The redhead stood behind the desk and pressed a button on the phone labeled "security." "Rodrigo," she said after a moment. "Remember when I clocked in for you so you wouldn't be late?...Well you owe me a favor."

Rose tensed. What kind of favor was the woman requesting from security? Were she and Mickey about to be thrown out?

"I need to know if John Smith's car is still in the parking lot."

Rose exhaled (she had not even realized she had been holding her breath) and her shoulders relaxed. The temporary receptionist was actually attempting to help her.

"Yes you can," the woman said to whoever Rodrigo was. "Because there is a young woman here who wants to talk to him. And I'm pretty sure it is for personal reasons, not business. I thought maybe she could wait there." The woman smiled at Rose and the warmth was almost tangible. It was hard to believe that this same woman had been so aloof just moments ago.

"Well if the camera's not working, then go bloody check yourself!...Good!"

Rose jumped and the woman shot Rose a look of apology. After a few minutes the woman was nodding and humming in response to whatever Rodrigo was saying. "It was worth a try. Thanks Rodrigo. Happy New Year."

The woman replaced the handset on the cradle and shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said to Rose. "Doctor Smith's car is gone. The security guard asked around and it seems he left over an hour ago."

Rose nodded. "Thank you for trying." Rose would try again. Maybe she would write a letter as Mickey suggested, but not today.

"What's your name?" the temp asked.

"Rose Tyler."

"Donna Noble," the woman said offering her hand, which Rose shook. "This seems very important to you, Rose." Donna commented. "Are you and Doctor Smith…"

"I don't even know what we are. Or were." Rose answered, not sure why she was admitting so much. "But there was something there, and like a fool I ended it too soon."

"I was just going take a memo with your name and number," Donna said, " but you'd likely get some customer service rep who will be of no help at all." Donna took a business card from the tray. "I'm risking my job doing this, but, I don't know, it seems worth it." She scrawled something on the back of the card. "That's my mobile number in case you need help later. And there's something else." She handed the card to Rose.

Rose looked at the card and furrowed her brow in confusion. "Bad Wolf?"

"It's a code word," Donna explained. "It bypasses the chain of command and gets you directly to John Smith's secretary. It's supposed to be for emergency situations only, but I think this applies. No one's here tomorrow, but you can try Friday."

"Oh, thank you!" gushed Rose. "You made my whole day! You're brilliant!"

"Oh, I'm nothing," Donna said to her. "I'm just a temp from Chiswick."

Rose looked at the words BAD WOLF, which Donna had written in all capital letters. It was a link between her and the Doctor. "Donna Noble," Rose said. "From my perspective you're the most important woman in the whole of creation."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** First the obligatory apology. I never expected it to take so long to wrap up this story. But, after much waiting, the chapter is done. If do not get too wordy going forward, I predict I should be done in two more chapters. One of which will be the prologue. Don't forget I do my best to update my profile with news every Sunday night/Monday

My real life challenges this time came mostly in the form of Girl Scout Cookies. I am a troop leader and we have just finished cookie season. That meant selling almost everyday for 2-4 hours. (Not the girls, they did rotated once or twice a week, but someone had to be the grown up there!) On top of that we had sick kids here at home.

On the writing side, I had struggles trying to write the supporting characters. Even though these characters are in an AU, they still needed to seem familiar. Barbara is more or less an OC whom I envision with the voice and (modernized) look of her namesake, so I write her how I see her. But Mickey and Donna are more familiar to me and I do nor have much experience writing them and it took a lot of transcript reading and watching of episode segments to get them sounding right to me. Hopefully I did them justice.

I did a lot of dialogue repurposing in this this chapter, including dipping into the tenth doctor's era. Episodes I borrowed from: _Parting of the Ways_, _The Christmas Invasion_, _The Age of Steel_, _Turn Left_, and_ Journey's End_. If anyone wants to know why I chose "the most important woman in the whole of creation" over "the most important woman in the universe," it is because the former is what Rose actually said to Donna, so it seemed more fitting.

Also, the magazine article titles are my own, however online there are British based articles dealing with each of those subject. I had fun reading some of them. I have a feeling Google's advertising will start sending me ads for dating sites now.


	16. Home, Day 4: Wed(New Year's Eve Night)

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Home, Day 4 - New Years Eve Night, Wednesday, 31 December**

The Doctor pulled his blue 1963 Mustang into a parking spot along the curb at his destination. Then he turned the car off and inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm his rapidly beating heart. This was a mistake. He had no business barging into Rose's corner of the world and intruding upon her life like this. Despite what Barbara had suggested, a grand romantic gesture if not executed properly or received well could make things exponentially worse. He glanced at the four white paper roses lying on the passenger seat as the paper cuts on his thumbs and forefingers stung afresh in a sort of Pavlovian response. Then he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and removed the paper that had been carefully folded into a wedge. If he were to unfold it, a snowflake would appear with the image of a rose in its center. He shook his head and returned the folded snowflake to his pocket. He was a sentimental old fool, he was. Rose's name had danced on the forefront of his mind when he had made the paper tokens, but for all he knew, Rose was tired of rose-themed gifts after twenty-four years. He should just go home, forget this nonsense, and telephone her sometime tomorrow.

A friendly shout from the pavement outside, which was echoed by an equally friendly shout in reply, interrupted the Doctor's thoughts. He looked up to see two men greet each other with a pat on the back before entering the building in front of which the Doctor was parked. He watched for several minutes as people arrived one or two at a time and went through the doors before him. A few were in suits, but most were wearing simpler clothing. A handful even wore uniforms from jobs involving manual labor. Though the Doctor had stopped by his flat in Chelsea to freshen up (he had put on the burgundy jumper he had worn when he had first met Rose) the Doctor was wearing the same jumper, jeans, and jacket combination that he always did, and would not look out of place in a Peckham nieghborhood.

The Doctor read the sign above the double door. The Crown and the Cushion was the closest pub to the estates in which Rose lived, and the Doctor knew from a conversation on their holiday (though when he had started considering it "their" holiday, he did not know) that she had plans to go to her neighborhood pub for a New Year's Eve celebration. The Doctor's plan was to join the festivities after Rose had already arrived and surprise her. He was at the right place, but the timing was off. These were not partygoers ready to ring in the New Year. The people he had watched entering the pub had come straight from work to unwind before heading home. He was too early.

What time did New Year's Eve celebrations begin anyway? The Doctor glanced at his watch. It certainly wasn't at half past six. He could leave and return in a couple of hours, but there was only room for three cars in front of the tiny pub and he did not want to the risk the chance that he might not have a place to park later.

The Doctor rubbed the fingers of both hands from the center of his forehead outward toward his temples. He couldn't sit in his car for two hours. Though it was comfortable and bigger on the inside than one would expect from the exterior, he would drive himself mad if he had nothing to do but sit and wait. There was also the risk that Rose would see him when she walked in. The speech he had rehearsed worked better in the scenario he had planned. His earlier thought about forgetting the whole thing and going home was sounding more and more appealing. But if he could give up so easily when he had the magic of New Year's Eve to aid him, what guarantee was there that he would have the boldness to call her the next day?

A rumble in the Doctor's stomach finally gave him the direction he needed. He would leave his vehicle where it was and find a place to eat within walking distance, taking his time before returning. Though the pub offered food, he didn't want to ruin his chance to make an entrance. He also didn't want to look like a poor lonely sod sitting around for hours hoping to find love on New Year's Eve—even if that was exactly what he was doing. But at least now he was determined. The Doctor got out of his car and glanced in the window of The Crown and Cushion before beginning his walk. When he returned, Rose would be there. He couldn't predict how the evening would end, but the knowledge that he would see Rose at least one more time was enough to make his already racing heat skip a beat.

* * *

Airs and graces.

That's what Rose's mother would accuse Rose of having if she didn't do a better job of trying to enjoy herself. She would say that Rose thought she was above the party at the local pub now that she had a prestigious job in the fashion industry.

"You've changed so much recently," Jackie had said when Rose had walked into the living room in the outfit she had chosen to wear for the evening.

"Only on the outside," Rose had told her. Instead of wearing her typical attire of jeans, a T-shirt, and a pastel pink or lavender hoodie, she was wearing midnight blue trousers, a dark pink velvet top, and a jacket made of dark purple leather. The outfit reflected Rose's sense of style better than most of her wardrobe, but she had previously saved such outfits for work or special occasions and had defaulted to items that allowed her to blend in with those around her. The choice of the jacket, however, was partially influenced by her recent association with the Doctor, and she was fine with that. Wearing the jacket gave Rose the boldness to be outwardly who she had been inwardly for a long time. "Besides," Rose said to her mother. "It's a change for the better."

"I suppose," Jackie said with a sigh.

"Mum, I used to work in a shop," Rose said.

"I've worked in shops," her mother snapped. "What's wrong with that?"

"No, I didn't mean that," Rose said, wishing her mother could understand why this next step in her life was so important to her.

"I know what you meant," Jackie said. She stepped over to Rose and brushed a tendril of Rose's hair behind her ear, gazing at her with the same look on her face that Rose had seen every September on the first day of school. On those occasions, Jackie would ramble on about her how her big girl was growing up and how time was going by far too quickly.

"I'm proud of you, sweetheart." Jackie said as tears filled her eyes. "'Course I am. But you'll keep on changing. Soon you'll make enough to have your own place. And maybe you'll visit me, but it'll be the only reason you come back home. The new Rose Tyler will think she's too good for this place."

Rose had searched for the words to comfort her mother, but had come up short. Rose would never be ashamed of where she had come from. Inwardly she would always be a girl from the estates, but her dreams lied elsewhere. For so long she had let herself believe that pursuing her dreams meant rejecting her upbringing, but meeting the Doctor had changed that. He was rich and successful, but he was still a boy from the country (with an accent to prove it) who preferred English breakfast over fine dining and a casual wardrobe over an Armani suit. In the same manner, Rose could have a career in fashion, wear what made her happy, and still be grateful for the working class community that had always looked out for one another and had taught her the value of hard work.

It was for this reason that Rose sat at a table in the pub with her mother and Howard from the market (who Rose suspected fancied her mother) and tried to stay interested in their conversation about rising grocery costs. But even when the talk changed to football and then on to the weather, Rose felt somewhat out of place. It wasn't because she felt superior to those around her—she remembered feeling equally out of place at the Yule Ball in Val d'Isere—her discomfort was the result of feeling caught between two worlds, and she had yet to reconnect with the one person who might be able to identify with her.

The more she thought about this, the more Rose realised how much the Doctor's life and hers seemed to complement each other. She had focused so much on their differences that she had failed to see the similarities. They were on the same journey, there was no reason they couldn't travel it together.

Rose smiled at the thought. Jackie, who likely thought Rose was finally getting into the celebration, returned her smile. Maybe the key to having a good time was to believe that she _did_ have a future with the Doctor and that she had found the missing piece of the puzzle—her other half.

Rose frowned at her last thought. The Doctor wasn't her other half, and she had never been all that fond of that phrase. She understood the sentiment, but it wasn't quite right. She was whole on her own. So was he. The fact that they had been better when together did not make them incomplete. Maybe it was more accurate to liken them to two pieces in a set. Rose looked at the plate in front of her.

Like fish and chips.

Shireen and Keisha arrived together and pushed a table up against the one at which Rose was seated. Rose greeted them but continued her musing.

Maybe she and the Doctor were more like hope and glory. Or Mutt and Jeff. Or Shiver and Shake.

Rose giggled, wondering which of them would be Shiver just as Howard had come to the punch line at the end of a very bad joke. Rose's brightened mood made the joke seem funnier, so she made a better effort to include herself in the merrymaking while continuing her thoughts in secret. It was nice to think of the Doctor in way that was pleasant rather than full of regret. She had faith that they would be a team again.

Like Holmes and Watson.

Beth showed up and joined in the joke-telling, and Debbie arrived shortly thereafter. The jokes continued, and Rose laughed along, (even at ones that were decidedly not funny), but matched pairs came to her mind automatically—most of them inspired by the conversation and atmosphere around her. Rose let her mind wander, wondering which pair best described the Doctor and her.

Bread and butter? Toast and jam?

Mickey was the last familiar face to enter the pub. He was alone. He told Rose that he had just been talking to Trisha Delany, and they agreed they had nothing in common. Rose was prepared to offer condolences, but there was an ease in Mickey's voice that Rose had not heard in a long time. He even told Rose he was considering taking some computer courses and possibly getting a degree in that field. Rose smiled. She had a feeling Mickey would be just fine.

Karaoke began, and Rose was finally feeling festive. She was the second person to sing. And the fifth. She continued to sing on and off throughout the night. In between songs, her mind went back to thinking of complementary pairs.

Music and lyrics.

Rock and roll.

Song and dance.

Rose's secret game made it feel as if the Doctor was somehow with her in spirit. But she couldn't help thinking how much nicer it would have been if he had actually been there.

* * *

The Doctor was probably setting a world record for the slowest consumption of a pint. He had been nursing the same one for hours.

The Doctor had taken as much time as he possibly could to eat his meal and walk back to The Crown and Cushion. When he finally entered the pub, the atmosphere within was festive. There were even people wearing ridiculous party hats. The Doctor had wandered around the small pub for a while, but there was no sign of Rose. So he had ordered a pint of bitter and taken a seat at a table near the bar. The Doctor kept his head low, but glimpsed at every fair-haired woman who entered. The hours ticked by. He hadn't thought Rose to be the type to be late—fashionably or otherwise—but he had to admit there was still so much he didn't know about her. This was her local pub. Perhaps the bar staff knew her and would know when she was likely to arrive.

The Doctor left his table waited for a break in the action in order to ask his questions to the barman, but the barman beat him to it. He had been shooting the Doctor looks of pity and suspicion all night, and the Doctor's stares could not have helped.

"What do ya want?" the barman demanded in a thick Cockney accent.

"I want to know when most of the party-goers will arrive," the Doctor said. "You seem to be the one to ask."

"Well, everyone's 'ere, ain't they?" the man said. "Less than an 'our ter go now."

"Great thanks," the Doctor said feeling discouraged. "And I want to find a blonde in her mid twenties with a cheeky smile."

"Then yer in luck, mate," the barman answered. "There's a fair share of 'em 'ere tonight." He leaned in closer to the Doctor. "And by now they're so pissed, they won't notice the ears or that yer old enough ter be their father."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. He didn't have time to be offended by the man's comment. "I mean a specific one. I didn't just wake up this morning with a craving." He took out his phone and found the picture of Rose and him looking at the camera. He showed it to the barman and to the people on either side of him who had been listening in on the conversation. "Anybody seen a girl like that?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"Never seen 'er," the barman said. "Anythin' else I can 'elp ya wif?"

"My friend said she always goes to the neighborhood pub for New Year's," the Doctor said as he put his phone back in his pocket. "And she said it was the same one that she goes to with her mates all year." He furrowed his brow. "This is the closest pub to the Powell Estates where she lives. How is it that you've never seen her?"

"Well, that obvious, innit?" the barman said with a smile. "She goes ter The Barber's Arm's!"

"The what?"

"It's the pub on the ovver side of the estate," the man answered, gesturing in the direction of the Powell Estate as he did. "It's about thri'een minutes walk when ours is just ten, but it's bigger. More than 'alf the estate goes to The Barber's Arms." The man looked around at the festive crowd and smiled. "Don't mind though. We got more 'n enough business 'ere ter keep the landlord 'appy."

The Doctor felt as if a large stone had just been dropped to the bottom of his stomach. An icy sensation spread outward from the base of his neck as the realization of his mistake set in. He was at the wrong pub. It was thirty minutes until midnight and he had gone to the wrong bloody pub!

After that, the adrenaline took over. He thanked the barman and ran back to his table to retrieve the paper-craft roses he had left there. When he did not see them, he looked down on the floor and found that they had been trampled beyond recognition. His heart sank and he muttered a curse, but he left them lying there as he ran out the door of the pub.

The Doctor's mind raced as he tried to determine the best way to reach The Barber's Arms. Walking would take at least twenty-three minutes if the pub owner's estimates were right—and that did not account for the time it would take to walk past the estates themselves. Plus, it was freezing out and he was once again without a proper winter coat. If he drove, he would be warm and it would be quicker, but he again risked not finding a place to park.

Both methods had their strong and weak points, but staying warm was the deciding factor. The Doctor opened his car door, jumped in, and turned the ignition.

Nothing.

The Doctor cursed and slammed his fist on the steering wheel. The reality of owning a classic car was that it was in need of constant maintenance. Usually this was not a problem, as it gave him something to do on the weekends. He was also used to little things going wrong here and there. The current little thing was either a cold engine block or a weak battery connection. He could jiggle some wires, and that might be enough to get him a few miles down the street, but he was already racing against a clock that everybody in the country was watching. He couldn't think of a worse time to be doing maintenance, no matter how minor.

The Doctor got out of the car. He could walk instead, but he had already wasted five minutes. It was better to fix it and go. He opened the bonnet and looked inside. Sure enough, the connection to the battery was loose. He rubbed his hands together and breathed on them to warm them up. Then he did his best to repair the problem.

With ten more minutes lost, the Doctor shut the bonnet and got back inside. He turned the ignition. The engine wheezed and rattled, but would not turn over.

He tried again with the same results.

"Oh, come on," the Doctor prayed. "Come on, please. Just give me this one." He turned the key again. The car groaned and chugged, then sputtered into life.

"Ha-ha!" he exclaimed as his excitement rose and his hope returned. With midnight rapidly approaching, he left the Crown and Cushion and headed to The Barber's Arms.

* * *

The night was almost over, or at least the year was. Everyone's attention had turned to the television as a classic rock band performed in front of Big Ben. In a few minutes, the countdown would commence. It would be a new beginning not just on the calendar, but also in Rose's life. If she accomplished even a quarter of what she hoped for, it would be an amazing year.

Somebody took Rose's right hand as she was thinking. It was her mother. Shireen took her other hand just as the entire pub began singing "Auld Lang Syne." Rose sang along, then dropped hands and counted down the seconds till New Year along with the crowd.

"...three...two...one! Happy New Year!" she cheered. She hugged her mother and kissed her on the cheek. Then she hugged Shireen and wished her a Happy New Year. She would have hugged Keisha as well, but Keisha was far too occupied with some bloke she had met that night. Keisha wasn't the only one. All around her people had moved on from a quick New Year's Kiss to full-on snogging. This included her mother, who must have fancied Howard as much as he fancied her.

Rose caught sight of Mickey on the other side of the room by the bar and gestured over at her mother as she rolled her eyes. He shook his head, shrugged, and laughed. Then he picked up two glasses of lager from the bar and made his way through the crowd to where Rose was standing.

"Need a drink?" he asked holding out one of the glasses and nodding toward Jackie.

"I do now, yeah," she said with a laugh. "Some things a daughter shouldn't see her mum do." She took the glass and raised it. "So, to two thousand fifteen, then," she said. "Cheers."

"Cheers," echoed Mickey as they tapped their glasses together.

Rose took a drink and placed the glass on the table beside her before turning to watch the fireworks on the large-screen television. She saw the lights and the color, but her mind was lost in thought. Was the Doctor also watching the televised fireworks? Could he see them from where he lived? Rose's night had turned out fine, but how different would her celebration have been if she had not turned the Doctor down at Val d'Isere? Would she have accompanied him to some New Year's charity event? Would he have joined her at the pub? She scoffed at the last thought; it was a bit too farfetched. But wherever they would have been, they would have been there together. Like salt and pepper or tea and biscuits.

The fireworks show ended in a succession of loud colourful explosions.

Or thunder and lighting.

"You thinking about John Smith?" Mickey asked.

"How'd you know?" Rose asked, surprised.

"I spent a good part of the day helping you try to find him," Mickey said. "And folks all around are pairing up. What else would you be thinking about?"

Rose sighed. "You know me pretty well, Mickey Smith."

"So what's this bloke look like, then?" Mickey asked. "You told me about him on the drive home, but I still haven't seen a photo."

"Mickey," Rose said, sitting down at the table. "You don't have to be this accepting."

"I'm gonna see him eventually, ain't I?" Mickey said with a teasing smile as he also sat down. "Might as well be prepared."

Rose gave Mickey a look of appreciation. Then she removed her mobile from her pocket and showed him the picture of the Doctor next to the snowman. Mickey's expression remained neutral, but a slight nod indicated that he had seen the image.

Rose took back her phone and put in the pocket of her jacket.

"So during the fireworks, were you thinking about your holiday with him?" Mickey asked her.

"In a way," she said. "I was thinking about the choice I made before I left." Rose looked to her right where her neighbors, friends, and mother were still celebrating. "I had a good time tonight," Rose told him. "It was brilliant. But I kept imagining what it would have been like if the Doctor had been here too."

Rose picked up the mostly-full glass in front of her. She tilted it slowly in a circle watching the amber liquid swirl. Mickey had been kind to ask about the Doctor, but it had to be a touchy subject for him. She looked at him to gauge his reaction, but Mickey was no longer looking at her. He had turned his head in the direction of the doors to her left. Either it was easier for him to listen to her talk about another man when his eyes were focused elsewhere, or else he was contemplating leaving.

"We can talk about something else," she said apologetically as she looked down again. "I guess I just wonder if the Doctor has thought about me at all."

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Mickey said.

"What?" Rose looked at Mickey. He was still staring in the direction of the entrance, and he was shaking his head with a look of incredulous amusement on his face. Rose followed his gaze.

It couldn't be.

Rose barely noticed when Mickey stood, squeezed her shoulder gently, and said "Happy New Year, Rose," before walking away. Her eyes were fixed on the man in the leather jacket who had just entered the pub. He couldn't be real. It had to be a hallucination caused by the silly game she had played in her head all night. Except that Mickey had seen him too.

It was him. It was the Doctor. He was really there!

Rose's heart sped up as everything around her seemed to slow down. The Doctor was making his way through the crowd toward the back of the pub where Rose sat. His eyes darted back and forth, regarding every person he passed. His concentrated frown caused his forehead to crease with four thick lines. (No wonder Mickey had recognized him so readily. His expression almost mirrored the one he wore in the snowman photo.)

Then he saw her. His eyes locked onto hers, and she could see a mixture of relief, happiness, and nervousness reflected within them. Rose smiled shyly, her emotions matching the ones he wordlessly conveyed. Then the corners of the Doctor's mouth twitched and spread into a wide toothy grin, his eyes as bright as his smile. Rose's heart leapt within her and her smile broadened.

Rose stood, feeling compelled to go to him. She kept her eyes trained on the Doctor as she darted through the crowd, watching as he did the same. When she reached him, she threw her arms around his neck without thought or hesitation. His arms encircled her waist, lifting her up and turning her around as he did. The reality that she was once again in the Doctor's arms sunk in, and she choked back a sob. She buried her face in the soft leather of the Doctor's jacket and breathed in deeply. She had never felt more at home than she did at that moment.

Eventually they let go of each other. Rose stepped back and looked at him through watery eyes. "Feels like I haven't seen you in years," she told him.

"I had to come and see you," the Doctor said.

"I'm glad you did," she said softly.

"Really?" the Doctor asked. His seeme was hesitant and unsure.

Rose nodded. Her vision became even more clouded with tears, and she sniffed, trying to keep her composure. She wanted to apologise for turning him down when she had last seen him. She wanted to tell him about her new position at Flydale Fashions and thank him for his help. She wanted to tell him how much she had missed him since the moment she had left him and the conclusions she had come to over the subsequent days. But all she could manage to do was stand silently and blink back the tears that threatened to escape.

"You all right?" the Doctor asked, his tone switching from hesitation to concern.

"Yeah," she said, mustering a smile as she wiped the corners of her eyes. "You?"

"Not bad," he said, "Been better. Felt a bit off since after Boxing Day."

Someone standing near would only have heard small talk in the words they exchanged, but Rose's heart swelled at the unspoken message. "I thought I'd never see you again," she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

An impish grin spread slowly across the Doctor's face. "No. Not 'never,'" he said. "That wasn't the agreement."

Rose frowned, trying to follow what the Doctor was saying.

"Last time I saw you, you said we could meet again '_next year_,'" said the Doctor, emphasising the last two words. His smile continued to grow and the brightness seemed to extend to the rest of him. He was almost dancing when he spoke again. "Rose Tyler, it is now officially next year!"

The Doctor's mood was infectious. Rather than trying to hold back tears, Rose was struggling to stifle a laugh. "So was that your plan then?" she asked in mock accusation. "Wait until after midnight so you could see me again under a technicality?" She looked up at him and smiled, her tongue jutting out and touching her tooth before she could stop it. It was an action she never noticed until she was doing it, a tell that made her rubbish at poker and let people know when she was teasing. But she didn't mind, especially since the look on the Doctor's face after she had done it made her pulse race.

"Wasn't the plan," the Doctor said with a small laugh and a shake of his head. "Went to the wrong pub and it got worse from there. Had to walk from almost the estates." He paused and frowned. "Went much differently in my head, this did. Had a speech prepared and made paper roses—wait..." The Doctor stopped and pulled something made of folded paper out of an inner pocket of his jacket. He handed it to Rose without a word, but the color in his cheeks intensified and spread to his ears.

Rose carefully unfolded what she realized was a paper snowflake. She gasped when she saw the intricately cut image of a rose, as tears once again began to form. Rose lifted her up eyes to look at the Doctor. She tried to say something, but his gesture had rendered her speechless.

"Rose Tyler," the Doctor said as he looked at her with eyes full of melancholy. "I was going tell you so many things. What really happened Henrik's. How we fixed it. Barbara's attempts to put me on social media..." He shook his head and breathed out a laugh.

Rose folded up the snowflake and put it in her own jacket pocket, then reached out and took his hand. "Then why don't you tell me?" she asked.

"Maybe I will," the Doctor said with a nod. "But not now. Just this." He placed his free hand over hers. "My life, the money, the success. It doesn't matter to me. Not if—" He took a deep breath. "I—I could buy more companies, make more money. But what good is it if makes you think we shouldn't be together?" His eyes filled with tears as he looked into Rose's. "I could have the whole world, but lose you."

"But you won't," Rose said. "Not ever." She tried to say more, but her words were overtaken by the tears she had been trying to subdue. The Doctor pulled her into his arms and she held onto him tightly as she cried. When the wave of emotion had passed, she loosened her grip and the Doctor did the same, but they remained in an embrace.

Rose was vaguely aware that people were staring. They had made quite a scene, and her make-up had to be a mess by now. But at least her countenance and actions matched those of the Doctor's. They regarded each other for a few ticks then began to chuckle.

"What a sorry pair we are." Rose said through a mixture of laughter and tears. "I must look a fright."

The Doctor shook his head. "You're fantastic," he told her. "Absolutely fantastic."

Rose grinned, her teasing tell making its appearance once again. "You can keep on talking if it's going to be all compliments."

The Doctor chuckled. Then his face grew serious as his eyes fixed on hers. "Did I mention I thought about you all the time?"

She didn't know if it was because of the way the Doctor was looking at her or if it was because he had unknowingly answered the question she had been thinking right before he showed up, but that was all Rose needed to hear. She removed her arms from their place around his waist and in one swift movement clasped them around the back of his neck, pulling his head down to hers and causing their lips to meet. The kiss started desperate, as if Rose was trying to communicate everything that had yet been unsaid, but she settled into it as she felt the Doctor's tender response. They had kissed before, of course. They had spent a good portion of their last evening together doing just that. But this was different. The cloud that had been looming over them before had lifted. Whatever the New Year and beyond held, Rose and the Doctor would be together.

The clamour of people around her—including a few hoots and whistles—brought Rose back to her surroundings. She pulled back far enough to look into his eyes. All night she was trying to find the words to describe the perfect matching set when she had had them all along: The Doctor and Rose. Nothing else could compare.

* * *

The Doctor looked into Rose's whiskey colored eyes still trying to take in what had happened. Though he did not believe in omens, he had run into so many obstacles trying to find Rose that night that he had almost considered taking them as a sign that it wasn't meant to be. But when he saw her standing at the other end of the pub, his hope had been renewed.

Even then, he had thought he would have to go through his whole speech before Rose would even consider giving their relationship another chance. But she took him completely by surprise when she had enthusiastically run into his arms. He hadn't really needed to say anything. It was as if just being there had been enough.

And then that kiss!

The Doctor had experienced his share of kisses throughout the years, but including his first quick kiss under the tree with his neighbor Grace when he was eight, there had been only a handful of kisses that stood out in his mind as significant. And the ones that topped the list were the ones he had shared with Rose.

But this last kiss had been different. It hadn't just been thrilling or enjoyable (though it had been both those things); it was something more. There was a comfort to it, a sense of belonging that transcended the passion he felt, and it confirmed what he had realized in his days apart from her.

The Doctor placed his palm on Rose's cheek, brushing his thumb over the soft lips he had just tasted. It would be easy to sample them again and ignore the thought that was now clouding out all others. Instead, he made a decision that was against all the advice in all the articles that Barbara could ever give him. Even his own logic warned that it was too soon, but being cautious had kept him isolated for far too long. He was throwing himself in.

He looked into Rose's eyes and let his heart speak. "I love you."

Rose's eyes grew wide and her mouth opened slightly, but she didn't speak. Though it was only a second or two, the Doctor was in agony as he waited for Rose to respond. His heart beat so strongly he was sure everyone around him could hear it.

"Good," she said finally. " 'Coz last time was a bit of a whirlwind. Now I'm signing up." She covered the hand that he had placed on her cheek with hers. Then she brought it to her lips and kissed his palm. "You're stuck with me."

The Doctor felt his expression freeze somewhere between delight and confusion. "Does that mean—"

Rose's arms reached around his neck and she pulled him toward her until their foreheads touched. "'Course it does, you daft man. I love you too."

This time he began the kiss, pouring every emotion he had into it. She responded with such love and tenderness that the Doctor thought his heart would burst. Never would he have believed that he could love and be loved like this. Never had a kiss been more fantastic.

Eventually their lips parted. "There's still so much I wanted to tell you," he told Rose.

"Me too," she said as she they stepped apart. Her eyes surveyed her surroundings. "But maybe we should find somewhere else to talk."

The Doctor looked around the crowded pub and nodded. "That's probably best. Where would you like to go?"

Rose took the Doctor's hand and squeezed it. "It doesn't matter," she said. "Anywhere we go is fine as long as we're together."

"Together," he agreed, knowing Rose was talking about far more than their immediate plans. "Just as it should be."

**THE END**

... But stay tuned for the Epilogue

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Thank you SO MUCH for sticking with me through this story. There was real life stuff that slowed its conclusion, but mostly I was just intent on getting it right. I wrote and re-wrote it, working at a slow pace until it progressed the way I wanted it to.

There are a lot of re-worked canon lines in this, and I lot of lines I wished I could have used that I didn't. I only put in canon-inspired lines if it fit the dialogue the way I wanted it to go. Sources are: Doomsday, The Empty Child, The Doctor Dances, The Stolen Planet, Parting of the Ways, Rose, World War III, and Journey's End Deleted Scene.

I have also watched and re-watched anything remotely romantic between Nine and Rose and even some of Ten and Rose. Again if this is the sacrifice I have to make for a good story, so be it!

Once again, the story is complete, but there is an epiligoue—the neat little bow on this belated Christmas present. It is partially written, so it should be up in a week or less.


	17. Epilouge

**A Christmas to Remember**

**Epilogue**

Audrey Dubios loved greeting the guests when they first arrived at the _Hotel Galaxie_. Most of them were excited for a holiday of skiing and relaxation, and those who were weary from travel quickly cheered at the prospect of the fun that lied ahead. Audrey was energized by the enthusiasm around her, and even the disgruntled guests did little to bring her down. When problems arose—like incorrect accommodations or lack of vacancy due to overbooking—Audrey was able to find solutions and take extra measures that caused guests to want to return in the future. Her skill in troubleshooting and guest relations was what got her promoted to assistant manager at the end of October. However, her new position gave her little time to interact with guests. So when several cases of the flu caused the hotel to be short-staffed right as the Christmas rush began, Audrey, was delighted to once again take her place at the reception desk.

Though Audrey enjoyed interacting with the guests, even she could get weary of the repetitive nature of the job, so one of the ways she kept herself entertained was to observe the queue and try to determine the guests' back stories and reasons for staying at the hotel. Some were easy, like the middle-class family on their annual ski trip, the competition skier there to practice on the advanced slopes, or the solo traveller who just wanted some solitude during the holiday season. Others were not as easy to read, and the stories of those guests intrigued Audrey the most.

The guest Audrey encountered on Wednesday, two days before Christmas, was one of those cases. The pair consisted of a tall man with dark hair who appeared to be in his forties and a blonde woman who appeared to be much younger. When they first entered the queue, Audrey thought they might be father and daughter, but she dismissed the thought almost immediately. The affection the two displayed (while subtle and not out of place in public) was definitely of the romantic sort, which lead Audrey to guess that they were a couple. As they progressed in the queue, Audrey was able to see them more clearly. The young blonde kept holding out her left hand to gaze at it, which would cause the man to glance briefly at his own left hand (which was still interlaced with his companion's right hand.) The woman seemed almost aglow, and the tall older man was grinning so much, Audrey imagined that his cheeks would be aching after a while. The two were evidently newlyweds. Audrey shrugged as she helped the family standing in front of her. The couple had to be a decade or more apart, but they seemed happy.

Before the next guest stepped up, Audrey quickly looked up information on the honeymoon suites. Both suites had been occupied since Sunday night. She helped check in the guest in front of her then looked up the vacancy information of the hotel's other suites. Two were still available, but both of them listed only single occupants. Audrey surveyed the mystery couple again. Perhaps a suite was not something they could afford. The husband was wearing jeans and a beat-up leather jacket and looked like he would fit in nicely with the working class. The bride, on the other hand, looked like she had stepped out of a page in a fashion magazine. But perhaps it was an outfit specially bought for the occasion. Whatever their story was, it had to be a good one.

Soon enough, the newlyweds were standing in front of her.

"We'd like to check in," the blonde woman said in English. The young woman's voice was calm and professional, but Audrey could see the excitement that bubbled just underneath the surface. "My reservation should be under Rose Tyler," she said.

Audrey typed in the name, and was surprised to see that the room the woman had booked was one of the suites she had just looked up. Rose Tyler continued to talk, her excitement rapidly becoming more evident. "I wanted to put it under Rose Smith," the young woman said, "but none of my identifications say that yet. We just got married last night and found a flight as early as we could this morning. I didn't want my reservation to be filled by someone else." At this statement the new Mrs. Smith nudged her husband, who chuckled in response.

Since Audrey did not understand the humour in the bride's words, she assumed it was an inside joke and continued the check-in process. "You 'ave requested suite eight specifically?" Audrey asked the woman.

"Yes," Mrs. Smith said. "It was the same suite I stayed in last year for Christmas."

"Welcome back," Audrey said. Then she took a breath before addressing the reservation information she had noticed earlier. "I am sorry, but it appears your husband's name 'as been left off." She glanced at the man briefly then returned her attention to the woman. "Would you like me to add 'is information?" Assuming that the reason for the omission had something to do with the couple's ability to afford it, she added, "Zere is no extra fee for two guests. Zee price assumes double occupancy."

Rose Smith smiled. "Thank you, but my husband won't be staying in suite eight. He reserved his own suite."

That was certainly not the response Audrey had expected, and she did her best not to look shocked. As her mind struggled (and failed) to come up with an explanation that made any sense, she focused her gaze at the computer screen. She switched to the reservation list and selected the only suite remaining. Sure enough, it had been reserved by a Dr. John D. Smith.

Audrey switched back to the check-in screen and, trying her best not to show any signs of judgement or confusion, finished the check-in process. "You are checked in from today until twenty-nine December." She handed the woman the key card. "Enjoy your stay."

The young woman then stepped to the side as the man took his place in front of Audrey. He was still grinning. "Hello!" he said brightly, with a short wave.

Audrey couldn't help but smile back, but then she quickly got to work. "We 'ave only one suite left," she told him. "So you must be Doctor Smith in number nine."

"That's me!" he said. "And could you please add Mrs. Smith to the reservation?"

"Very well monsieur," Audrey said, but she could not hide the involuntary frown of confusion that accompanied her words.

"Couldn't make up our minds," Doctor Smith said as if trying to explain their unusual accommodations.

Audrey frowned again. "I am sorry, but I do not understand."

"We met a year-ago yesterday outside this hotel," he said.

"That's why we picked it as our wedding date," interjected Mrs. Smith.

"Then we discovered we had neighbouring rooms," continued Doctor Smith. "Suites eight and nine."

Audrey had been right; their story was one worth hearing. She stopped typing and gave Doctor Smith her full attention as he continued to explain.

"Made sense to have our honeymoon here," he told her, "but we couldn't decide which room to stay in since both held memories. So we booked both. We only just decided on nine."

"So you do not want suite eight?" Audrey's head was beginning to swim.

"We do," Rose Smith said. "But just long enough to look around and reminisce."

"I understand," said Audrey. She was glad things were beginning to make sense. "But it is not necessary to reserve zee room. I can 'ave a steward give you access for a while."

"Actually," the young woman said, "I want to pay for it in full now."

"But..." Audrey began without knowing what to stay next.

"Last year when I arrived, all the vacancies were filled," Rose Smith told her. "Are the rooms overbooked again?"

"I am afraid so," Audrey said. "Some guests reserve zere room but never show up. Therefore it is zee practice of the 'otel to overbook the economy rooms by ten percent."

"So I have learned," Rose said with a sigh. "It was only because of an upgrade that I was able to have a room." She stopped and smiled at Audrey. "You were the one who arranged it. You gave me a meal card as well."

Audrey studied the face of the young bride as a vague memory surfaced and quickly became more clear. The bride before her had been a solo traveller who looked as if she needed the holiday more than almost anyone she had seen all day. Audrey remembered the look of disappointment on the young woman's face when she learned there were no vacancies and her inability to hide her joy over the eventual outcome.

"We want to do the same thing for someone else," the woman was saying now. "We'd like a moment to see the room one more time, but then we want you to give it to another guest—someone whose economy room was filled, but you feel deserves that upgrade. Let them know their room is paid for by a guest who was once in their shoes, but not by whom."

"I will," Audrey promised.

"Also," Rose said. "Please charge all that guest's meals to our room."

Audrey was overcome with emotion, and she did not try to hide it. She finished the transactions for both suites with tears in her eyes, and took a break to compose herself once the Doctor and Mrs. Smith had left the front desk. As much as she hated telling guests that there were no vacancies, she was excited to be part of making the holiday for one of those guests a little brighter.

* * *

Rose Tyler wandered around the bedroom of suite eight, stopping now and then to close her eyes and picture the paper-made winterscape that had been there a year earlier. She ran her palm over the foot of the bed, remembering when she held the Doctor as he dealt with the pain of his past. Then she took the hand of the present Doctor—her husband—and squeezed it gently before leading him to the salon.

"We talked here for hours," she said to him as they walked over to the sofa and sat down.

The Doctor nodded. "You fell asleep in my arms." He put his arm around Rose and chuckled. "Then you did it again in my suite two nights later."

"Even then I felt so safe with you. So at peace." She snuggled in closer to him. "I still do."

"Good thing we got married then," quipped the Doctor.

Rose smiled. "Just a bit, yeah." She turned and took the Doctor's face in her hands, kissing him softly. He returned the kiss, and they lost themselves in it for an unknown amount of time.

"We should go to the other room," Rose said finally. "Who knows how soon Audrey will need the vacancy."

The Doctor stood and helped lift Rose to standing. "Come on then, wife," he said. "We have a honeymoon to begin."

* * *

Captain Jack Harkness couldn't believe what he was hearing. "No rooms?" he said to the woman behind the desk. "You've got to be kidding me! I have a reservation!" He looked at her with pleading eyes, wordlessly begging her to tell her something different.

"I am sorry," she said, "but we are overbooked. Zee last room was taken an hour ago."

Jack gaped at the woman in disbelief. She was beautiful, with auburn hair and deep green eyes, but right now she was the bearer of bad news, and he was almost too upset to care. Almost. "Come now, Audrey," he crooned as he looked at her name tag. "Can I call you Audrey?"

Audrey's expression was unchanged as she answered, "Certainly monsieur, it is my name after all."

"Well, Audrey," he said as he stared into her eyes and flashed his most alluring smile, "I am sure that as the assistant manager, there is _something_ you can do."

"No," she said, with no sign that Jack's charms had had any effect on her. "Zere is truly nothing I can do except transfer your reservation to zee Chula Inn."

Audrey's lack of reaction took Jack completely by surprise, but worse than that was the predicament he was in. According to the map that Audrey was showing him, the Chula Inn was at the far northeast end of town—over two kilometres from the _Hotel Galaxie_. This might not be a problem for the average guest for whom any lodging would do, but his entire reason for being in Val d'Isere revolved around that specific hotel. Last year he had run the toy drive portion of _Hotel Galaxie's_ Children in Need charity. This year the entire event was his to run. He had welcomed the responsibility, even if it meant his time on leave was more work than pleasure, but he could not fulfill his responsibilities at the hotel (which included the toy drive, event planning for the ball, and oversight of monetary donations) if he was marooned on the edge of town. He loved that he could use his ability to throw a good party and channel it into something meaningful, but now he was afraid the entire thing was going to fall apart. All because he had risen late then stopped on the way to the hotel for an hour to have a leisurely lunch.

If all the rooms at the _Hotel Galaxie_ were truly taken, it was Jack's fault, and there was nothing he could do about it. But there was always a chance that there was a vacancy closer to the center of town, even if he had to pay more for it. He just needed to ask Audrey. But since flirting had backfired, Jack would have to resort to a strategy he rarely ever used: humbleness and sincerity.

Jack cleared his throat, apologized, and told Audrey his story. He even included the part about it being his fault due to poor time management.

When he had finished, he was surprised to see tears in Audrey's eyes. "I 'ave a room for you," she told him with a sniff. Then she proceeded to tell him about the anonymous guest who had reserved a suite particularly for someone like him. The benefactor had even included complimentary meals at the _Restaurant Nébuleuse_ as part of this act of kindness.

"I'm not sure I deserve this," Jack admitted.

"You do," Audrey assured him. "Outside you seem arrogant. But your heart is much bigger on the inside."

Jack mumbled his thanks. He didn't know what else to say. He appreciated the comment, but he would have to work up to being worthy of it. His first act would be to discover the identity of the anonymous giver and express his appreciation. And as paradoxical as it was, that honest desire to show his gratitude would have to start with a small con. In this case, it meant coughing violently as Audrey was typing on the computer—possibly calling up the guest's information. When Audrey left to fetch him some water, Jack turned the monitor slightly and looked at the information on the screen.

His name had been entered for suite eight and was it marked as paid. Beneath that, it was noted that his meals would be charged to suite nine. It only took one click of the mouse to discover that the occupants of that suite were listed as Dr. John D. Smith and Rose Tyler. The surname Smith was in parenthesis next to "Tyler."

Names had a way of etching themselves permanently in Jack's memory, and these names were no exception. Rose Tyler was the beautiful blonde last year at the Yule Ball who was dressed as elegantly as any of the well-to-do guests yet had a different air about her. Doctor John Smith was her date who had looked intent on impressing her, but uncertain how to to about it. Jack had noticed them when they had walked in, and the two had intrigued him. He had also noticed Rose looking longingly at the dance floor—something her date had seemed oblivious to For some reason, Jack had felt compelled to nudge the couple in the right direction. He had to endure looks of distrust and jealously from John Smith after his intervention, but when he watched them on the dance floor lost in the magic of each other, it had been worth it. Jack had never given much thought to karma, but maybe the universe did reward good deeds.

Audrey was only gone a few seconds and returned while Jack was still looking at the screen. Jack decided again to go with honesty. "I had to know who it was," he said. "It would have been nearly impossible to handle the Children in Need duties from another location. These two saved my life...or my Christmas at least."

Audrey nodded. "I cannot say I condone your peeking, but I understand."

"I met them last year at the Yule Ball," he told Audrey conversationally. "The way Rose's name was entered...They're newlyweds aren't they?"

Audrey handed him his key card and meal card without a word, but the smile on her face was confirmation enough.

Jack grinned. He wasn't sure why the news made him so happy, but it did. "Thanks Audrey...for everything."

"You're welcome," she said. "Enjoy your stay."

Jack nodded and started to leave, but then he stopped. "Hey Audrey," he said with a smile—a sincere one, not the flirtatious one he had tried earlier. "When you're finished for the evening, could I buy you a coffee?"

"I would like zat," she said. "I am off at eight."

"See you then," said Jack, and he headed toward the elevators. This was shaping up to be a great Christmas.

* * *

It was Christmas morning. The Doctor sat with Rose on the sofa as Christmas music played, and they watched the fire burn in the fireplace. They had each opened the one small gift they had brought for each other. The rest of the gifts were at their apartment in London—the apartment that had once been just the Doctor's. They would open them at their combination Christmas and New Year's Eve party that they were hosting for friends and family. The Doctor pulled Rose closer and leaned his head on the top of hers as he thought about the events of their last holiday and the year that had followed.

A little over a year ago, the Doctor was solely focused on work and had no family or real friends to speak of. Now he and Rose had such a busy life that between their careers, their travels, and events with friends, it seemed the two never stopped running. Shortly after New Year's, Rose had insisted that Donna Noble, a temp from Arcadia, be considered for a permanent position. The Doctor hired her, and Donna and Rose soon became good friends. (The Doctor liked Donna almost as much, though sometimes they butted heads. Rose said this was because he and Donna were too much alike.) Rose had met people from Flydale fashions as well, but the Doctor could never keep their names straight. Even with all of Rose's new friends, Rose had stayed in touch with friends from the estate. Twice a month, the Doctor and Rose would meet them at the Barber's Arms. This was in addition to monthly Sunday tea with Rose's mother.

But their social circle was comprised of more than just Rose's friends. Thanks to social media, the Doctor was able to reunite with some of his old friends. These friends lived further away, so he didn't see them regularly, but it was nice to have them in his life again. Of all their friends, Ian and Barbara were probably the closest. Six months ago, the Doctor and Rose had been part of their wedding party, and three days ago, Ian and Barbara returned the favour.

In less than a week, most of those people would be celebrating in the Doctor and Rose's home. It was something he never would have thought possible. But what made the Doctor marvel most that Christmas morning were the events from the night before. He and Rose had stopped by the grand fireplace to deposit a toy in the Children in Need box that was located there and decided to stay for the family-centered program that was already in progress. To their surprise, Captian Jack Harkness from last year's Yule Ball was leading the event with assistance from Aubrey the Assistant Manager. When the event was over, the four got together for drinks at the Hotel bar. The Doctor's first impression of Jack the year before had not been favourable, but now that he had gotten to know the man better, he actually enjoyed his company. And in some ways, Jack's dancing with Rose a year earlier had given the Doctor the motivation to be the best date possible for Rose. So when drinks were done, Audrey had left, and the three guests made their way back to their rooms, the Doctor was actually pleased to see that Jack ended up right next door in the room they had paid for. He even invited Jack to go skiing with them the next day. (Rose was going dressed as Santa, the Doctor was not.) Jack said he was too busy with Yule Ball preparations, but would be glad to spend time with them later . Whatever happened next, the Doctor knew then that a new friendship had begun.

"You're really quiet," Rose said from beside him. "What are you thinking about?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Family. Friends. Christmas. You."

Rose giggled. "That's a lot. Anything in particular?"

"No," he said kissing the top of her head. "Just that I'm happy, and that I will always be grateful for the events of our last holiday here."

Rose hummed and nodded, then she turned to look at him. "Do you ever worry that maybe last Christmas was _too _good?"

"What do you mean?"

Rose shrugged. "It's just...last year sort of happened on its own. We would have to work pretty hard to make every Christmas that memorable."

The Doctor smiled, pulled his bride into an embrace, and kissed her tenderly. "Rose Tyler Smith," he said to her. "I love you. Just being able to spend our holidays together will make every Christmas a Christmas to remember."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. I have enjoyed revisiting these versions on the Doctor and Rose, and I hope you enjoyed this little peek on what they have been up to and where their life is headed. And, yes, I had to bring back Jack. I love Team Tardis too much to leave him out.

If you want to see the loose outline for this story (including returning for next Christmas), read the lyrics for the song inspiration:

www dot metrolyrics dot com slash a-christmas-to-remember-lyrics-dolly-parton dot html

I had intended to finish this before Christmas day, but holiday responsibilities at work and at home made that difficult. I am hoping that going forward I can be more consistent with writing. I am itching to get back to my other stories.

But for now, I wish that the remainder of your holiday season is also one to remember.


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